Dracula
as we can be hurt by him. We must, therefore, guard ourselves from his
touch. Keep this near your heart”--as he spoke he lifted a little silver
crucifix and held it out to me, I being nearest to him--“put these
flowers round your neck”--here he handed to me a wreath of withered
garlic blossoms--“for other enemies more mundane, this revolver and this
knife; and for aid in all, these so small electric lamps, which you can
fasten to your breast; and for all, and above all at the last, this,
which we must not desecrate needless.” This was a portion of Sacred
Wafer, which he put in an envelope and handed to me. Each of the others
was similarly equipped. “Now,” he said, “friend John, where are the
skeleton keys? If so that we can open the door, we need not break house
by the window, as before at Miss Lucy’s.”
Dr. Seward tried one or two skeleton keys, his mechanical dexterity as a
surgeon standing him in good stead. Presently he got one to suit; after
a little play back and forward the bolt yielded, and, with a rusty
clang, shot back. We pressed on the door, the rusty hinges creaked, and
it slowly opened. It was startlingly like the image conveyed to me in
Dr. Seward’s diary of the opening of Miss Westenra’s tomb; I fancy that
the same idea seemed to strike the others, for with one accord they
shrank back. The Professor was the first to move forward, and stepped
into the open door.
“_In manus tuas, Domine!_” he said, crossing himself as he passed over
the threshold. We closed the door behind us, lest when we should have
lit our lamps we should possibly attract attention from the road. The
Professor carefully tried the lock, lest we might not be able to open it
from within should we be in a hurry making our exit. Then we all lit our
lamps and proceeded on our search.
The light from the tiny lamps fell in all sorts of odd forms, as the
rays crossed each other, or the opacity of our bodies threw great
shadows. I could not for my life get away from the feeling that there
was some one else amongst us. I suppose it was the recollection, so
powerfully brought home to me by the grim surroundings, of that terrible
experience in Transylvania. I think the feeling was common to us all,
for I noticed that the others kept looking over their shoulders at every
sound and every new shadow, just as I felt myself doing.
The whole place was thick with dust. The floor was seemingly inches
deep, except where there were recent footsteps, in which on holding down
my lamp I could see marks of hobnails where the dust was cracked. The
walls were fluffy and heavy with dust, and in the corners were masses of
spider’s webs, whereon the dust had gathered till they looked like old
tattered rags as the weight had torn them partly down. On a table in the
hall was a great bunch of keys, with a time-yellowed label on each. They
had been used several times, for on the table were several similar rents
in the blanket of dust, similar to that exposed when the Professor
lifted them. He turned to me and said:--
“You know this place, Jonathan. You have copied maps of it, and you know
it at least more than we do. Which is the way to the chapel?” I had an
idea of its direction, though on my former visit I had not been able to
get admission to it; so I led the way, and after a few wrong turnings
found myself opposite a low, arched oaken door, ribbed with iron bands.
“This is the spot,” said the Professor as he turned his lamp on a small
map of the house, copied from the file of my original correspondence
regarding the purchase. With a little trouble we found the key on the
bunch and opened the door. We were prepared for some unpleasantness, for
as we were opening the door a faint, malodorous air seemed to exhale
through the gaps, but none of us ever expected such an odour as we
encountered. None of the others had met the Count at all at close
quarters, and when I had seen him he was either in the fasting stage of
his existence in his rooms or, when he was gloated with fresh blood, in
a ruined building open to the air; but here the place was small and
close, and the long disuse had made the air stagnant and foul. There was
an earthy smell, as of some dry miasma, which came through the fouler
air. But as to the odour itself, how shall I describe it? It was not
alone that it was composed of all the ills of mortality and with the
pungent, acrid smell of blood, but it seemed as though corruption had
become itself corrupt. Faugh! it sickens me to think of it. Every breath
exhaled by that monster seemed to have clung to the place and
intensified its loathsomeness.
Under ordinary circumstances such a stench would have brought our
enterprise to an end; but this was no ordinary case, and the high and
terrible purpose in which we were involved gave us a strength which rose
above merely physical considerations. After the involuntary shrinking
consequent on the first nauseous whiff, we one and all set about our
work as though that loathsome place were a garden of roses.
We made an accurate examination of the place, the Professor saying as we
began:--
“The first thing is to see how many of the boxes are left; we must then
examine every hole and corner and cranny and see if we cannot get some
clue as to what has become of the rest.” A glance was sufficient to show
how many remained, for the great earth chests were bulky, and there was
no mistaking them.
There were only twenty-nine left out of the fifty! Once I got a fright,
for, seeing Lord Godalming suddenly turn and look out of the vaulted
door into the dark passage beyond, I looked too, and for an instant my
heart stood still. Somewhere, looking out from the shadow, I seemed to
see the high lights of the Count’s evil face, the ridge of the nose, the
red eyes, the red lips, the awful pallor. It was only for a moment, for,
as Lord Godalming said, “I thought I saw a face, but it was only the
shadows,” and resumed his inquiry, I turned my lamp in the direction,
and stepped into the passage. There was no sign of any one; and as there
were no corners, no doors, no aperture of any kind, but only the solid
walls of the passage, there could be no hiding-place even for _him_. I
took it that fear had helped imagination, and said nothing.
A few minutes later I saw Morris step suddenly back from a corner, which
he was examining. We all followed his movements with our eyes, for
undoubtedly some nervousness was growing on us, and we saw a whole mass
of phosphorescence, which twinkled like stars. We all instinctively drew
back. The whole place was becoming alive with rats.
For a moment or two we stood appalled, all save Lord Godalming, who was
seemingly prepared for such an emergency. Rushing over to the great
iron-bound oaken door, which Dr. Seward had described from the outside,
and which I had seen myself, he turned the key in the lock, drew the
huge bolts, and swung the door open. Then, taking his little silver
whistle from his pocket, he blew a low, shrill call. It was answered
from behind Dr. Seward’s house by the yelping of dogs, and after about a
minute three terriers came dashing round the corner of the house.
Unconsciously we had all moved towards the door, and as we moved I
noticed that the dust had been much disturbed: the boxes which had been
taken out had been brought this way. But even in the minute that had
elapsed the number of the rats had vastly increased. They seemed to
swarm over the place all at once, till the lamplight, shining on their
moving dark bodies and glittering, baleful eyes, made the place look
like a bank of earth set with fireflies. The dogs dashed on, but at the
threshold suddenly stopped and snarled, and then, simultaneously lifting
their noses, began to howl in most lugubrious fashion. The rats were
multiplying in thousands, and we moved out.
Lord Godalming lifted one of the dogs, and carrying him in, placed him
on the floor. The instant his feet touched the ground he seemed to
recover his courage, and rushed at his natural enemies. They fled before
him so fast that before he had shaken the life out of a score, the other
dogs, who had by now been lifted in the same manner, had but small prey
ere the whole mass had vanished.
With their going it seemed as if some evil presence had departed, for
the dogs frisked about and barked merrily as they made sudden darts at
their prostrate foes, and turned them over and over and tossed them in
the air with vicious shakes. We all seemed to find our spirits rise.
Whether it was the purifying of the deadly atmosphere by the opening of
the chapel door, or the relief which we experienced by finding ourselves
in the open I know not; but most certainly the shadow of dread seemed to
slip from us like a robe, and the occasion of our coming lost something
of its grim significance, though we did not slacken a whit in our
resolution. We closed the outer door and barred and locked it, and
bringing the dogs with us, began our search of the house. We found
nothing throughout except dust in extraordinary proportions, and all
untouched save for my own footsteps when I had made my first visit.
Never once did the dogs exhibit any symptom of uneasiness, and even when
we returned to the chapel they frisked about as though they had been
rabbit-hunting in a summer wood.
The morning was quickening in the east when we emerged from the front.
Dr. Van Helsing had taken the key of the hall-door from the bunch, and
locked the door in orthodox fashion, putting the key into his pocket
when he had done.
“So far,” he said, “our night has been eminently successful. No harm has
come to us such as I feared might be and yet we have ascertained how
many boxes are missing. More than all do I rejoice that this, our
first--and perhaps our most difficult and dangerous--step has been
accomplished without the bringing thereinto our most sweet Madam Mina or
troubling her waking or sleeping thoughts with sights and sounds and
smells of horror which she might never forget. One lesson, too, we have
learned, if it be allowable to argue _a particulari_: that the brute
beasts which are to the Count’s command are yet themselves not amenable
to his spiritual power; for look, these rats that would come to his
call, just as from his castle top he summon the wolves to your going and
to that poor mother’s cry, though they come to him, they run pell-mell
from the so little dogs of my friend Arthur. We have other matters
before us, other dangers, other fears; and that monster--he has not used
his power over the brute world for the only or the last time to-night.
So be it that he has gone elsewhere. Good! It has given us opportunity
to cry ‘check’ in some ways in this chess game, which we play for the
stake of human souls. And now let us go home. The dawn is close at hand,
and we have reason to be content with our first night’s work. It may be
ordained that we have many nights and days to follow, if full of peril;
but we must go on, and from no danger shall we shrink.”
The house was silent when we got back, save for some poor creature who
was screaming away in one of the distant wards, and a low, moaning sound
from Renfield’s room. The poor wretch was doubtless torturing himself,
after the manner of the insane, with needless thoughts of pain.
I came tiptoe into our own room, and found Mina asleep, breathing so
softly that I had to put my ear down to hear it. She looks paler than
usual. I hope the meeting to-night has not upset her. I am truly
thankful that she is to be left out of our future work, and even of our
deliberations. It is too great a strain for a woman to bear. I did not
think so at first, but I know better now. Therefore I am glad that it is
settled. There may be things which would frighten her to hear; and yet