Читать книгу Dracula - Брэм Стокер, Bram Stoker, John Edgar Browning - Страница 3
D R A C U L A
CHAPTER II
JONATHAN BARKER’S JOURNAL continued
Оглавление5 May. I must have been asleep, for certainly if I had been
fully awake I must have noticed the approach of such a remark-
able place. In the gloom the courtyard looked of considerable
size, and as several dark ways led from it under great round
arches, it perhaps seemed bigger than it really is. I have not yet
been able to see it by daylight.
When the caleche stopped, the driver jumped down and held
out his hand to assist me to alight. Again I could not but notice
his prodigious strength. His hand actually seemed like a steel
vice that could have crushed mine if he had chosen. Then he
took out my traps, and placed them on the ground beside me as
I stood close to a great door, old and studded with large iron
nails, and set in a projecting doorway of massive stone. I could
see even in the dim light that the stone was massively carved,
but that the carving had been much worn by time and weather.
As I stood, the driver jumped again into his seat ’and shook the
reins; the horses started forward, and trap and all disappeared
.down one of the dark openings.
I stood in silence where I was, fc~ I did not know what to do.
Of bell or knocker there was no sign; through these frowning
walls and dark window openings it was not likely that my voice
could penetrate. The time I waited seemed endless, and I felt
doubts and fears crowding upon me. What sort of place had I
come to, and among what kind of people? What sort of grim ad-
venture was it on which I had embarked? Was this a customary
incident in the life of a solicitor’s clerk sent out to explain the
purchase of a London estate to a foreigner? Solicitor’s clerk!
Mina would not like that. Solicitor for just before leaving Lon-
don I got word that my examination was successful; and I am
now a full-blown solicitor! I began to rub my eyes and pinch
myself to see if I were awake. It all seemed like a horrible night-
mare to me, and I expected that I should suddenly awake, and
14
Jonathan Marker’s Journal 15
find myself at home, with the dawn struggling in through the
windows, as I had now and again felt in the morning after
a day of overwork. But my flesh answered the pinching test,
and my eyes were not to be deceived. I was indeed awake and
among the Carpathians. All I could do now was to be patient,
and to wait the coming of the morning.
Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavy step
approaching behind the great door, and saw through the chinks
the gleam of a coming light. Then there was the sound of rattling
chains and the clanking of massive bolts drawn back. A key was
turned with the loud grating noise of long disuse, and the great
door swung back.
Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white
moustache, and clad in black from head to. oot, without a single
speck of colour about him anywhere. He ’held in his hand an
antique silver lamp, in which the flame burned without chimney
or globe of any kind, throwing long quivering shadows as it
flickered in the draught of the open door. The old man motioned
me in with his right hand vith a courtly gesture, saying in excel-
lent English, but with a. strange intonation:
«Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will!»*
He made no motion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a
statue, as though his gesture of welcome had fixed him into stone.
The instant, however, that I had stepped over the threshold,
he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped
mine with a strength which made me wince,.an effect which was
not lessened by the fact. that it seemed as cold as ice more like
the hand of a dead than a living man. Again he said:
«Welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave
something of the happiness you bring!» The strength of the
handshake was so much akin to that which I had noticed in the
driver, whose face I had not seen, that for a moment I doubted
if it were not the same person to whom I was speaking; so to
make sure, I said interrogatively:
«Count Dracula? "He bowed in a courtly way as he replied:
«I am Dracula; and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my
house. Come in; the night air is chill, and you must need to eat
and rest.» As he was speaking, he put the lamp on a bracket on
the wall, and stepping out, took my luggage; he had carried it in
before I could forestall him. I protested but he insisted:
«Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are not
available. Let me see to your comfort myself.» He insisted on
carrying my traps along the passage, and then up a great wind-
16 Dracula
ing stair, and along another great passage, on whose stone floor
our steps rang heavily. At the end of this he threw open a heavy
door, and I rejoiced to see within a well-lit room in which a table
was spread for supper, and on whose mighty hearth a great fire
of logs, freshly replenished, flamed and flared.
The Count halted, putting down my bags, closed the door,
and crossing the room, opened another door, which led into a
small octagonal room lit by a single lamp, and seemingly with-
out a window of any sort. Passing through this, he opened an-
other door, and motioned me to enter. It was a welcome sight;
for here was a great bedroom well lighted and warmed with
another log fire, also added to but lately, for the top logs were
fresh which sent a hollow roar up the wide chimney. The Count
himself left my luggage inside and withdrew, saying, before he
closed the door:
«You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by
making your toilet. I trust you will find all you wish. When you
are ready, come into the other room, where you will find your
supper prepared.»
The light and warmth and the Count’s courteous welcome
seemed to have dissipated all my doubts and fears. Having then
reached my normal state, I discovered that I was half famished
with hunger; so making a hasty toilet, I went into the other room.
I found supper already laid out. My host, who stood on one
side of the great fireplace, leaning against the stonework, made
a graceful wave of his hand to the table, and said:
«I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will, I
trust, excuse me that I do not join you; but I have dined already,
and I do not sup.»
I handed to him the sealed letter which Mr. Hawkins had en-
trusted to me. He opened it and read it gravely; then, with a
charming smile, he handed it to me to read. One passage of it.
at least, gave me a thrill of pleasure.
«I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady 1
am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my
part for some time to come; but I am happy to say I can send a
sufficient substitute, one in whom I have every possible confi-
dence. He is a young man, full of energy and talent in his own
way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent,
and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to
attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your
instructions in all matters.»
The Count himself came forward and took off the cover of a
Jonathan Harker’s Journal 17
dish, and I fell to at once on an excellent roast chicken. This,
with some cheese and a salad and a bottle of old Tokay, of which
I had two glasses, was my supper. During the time I was eating
it the Count asked me many questions as to my journey, and I
told him by degrees all I had experienced.
By this time I had finished my supper, and by my host’s de-
sire had drawn up a chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigaf
which he offered me, at the same time excusing himself that he
did not smoke. I had now an opportunity of observing him, and
found him of a very marked physiognomy.
His face was a strong a very strong aquiline, with high
Bridge of the thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils; with lofty
domed forehead, and hair growing scantily round the temples
but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows were very massive, almost
meeting over the nose, and with bushy hair that seemed to curl
in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as I could see it under
the heavy-jnDJUs^Ux^'^aj.^ecr’and ratheTTriiel-looking, with
peculiarly sharp ~^bffiL&&pEKese protnifer"over the lips,
whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality in a
man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale, and at the tops
extremely pointed; the chin was broad and strong, and the
cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraor-
dinary pallor.
Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as they lay on
his knees in the firelight, and they had seemed rather white and
fine; but seeing them now close to me, I could not but notice
that they were rather coarse broad, with squat fingers. Strange
to say, there were hairs in the centre of the pahn. The nails were
long and fine, and cut to a sharp point. As the Count leaned over
me and his hands touched me, I could not repress a shudder.
It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling
of nausea came o\ er me, which, do what I would, I could not con-
ceal. The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back; and with a
grim sort of smile, which showed more than he had yet done his
protuberant teeth, sat himself down again on his own side of
the fireplace. We were both silent for a while; and as I looked
towards the window I saw the first dim streak of the coming
dawn. There seemed a strange stillness over everything; but as
I listened I heard as if fr^m down below in the valley the howling
of many wolves. The Count’s eyes gleamed, and he said:
«Listen to them the children of the night. What music they
make!» Seeing, I suppose, some expression in my face strange
to him. he added:
i8 Dracula
«Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings
of the hunter.» Then he rose and said:
«But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and to-
morrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away
till the afternoon; so sleep well and dream well!» With a cour-
teous bow, he opened for me himself the door to the octagonal
room, and I entered my bedroom….
I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange
things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me,
if only for the sake of those dear to me!
f
7 May. It is again early morning, but I have rested and en-
joyed the last twenty-four hours. I slept till late in the day,
and awoke of my own accord. When I had dressed myself I went
into the room where we had supped, and found a cold breakfast
laid out, with coffee kept hot by the pot being placed on the
heartK. There was a card on the table, on which was written :
«I have to be absent for a while. Do not wait for me. D.»
I set to and enjoyed a hearty meal. When I had done, I looked
for a bell, so that I might let the servants know I had finished;
but I could not find one. There are certainly odd deficiencies in
the house, considering the extraordinary evidences of wealth
which are round me. The table service is of gold, and so beauti-
fully wrought that it must be of immense value. The curtains
and upholstery of the chairs and sofas and the hangings of my
bed are of the costliest and most beautiful fabrics, and must
have been of fabulous value when they were made, for they are
centuries old, though in excellent order. I saw something like
them in Hampton Court, but there they were worn and frayed
and moth-eaten. But still in none of the rooms is there a mirror.
There is not even a toilet glass on my table, and I had to get the
little shaving glass from my bag before I could either shave or
brush my hair. I have not yet seen a servant anywhere, or heard
a sound near the castle except the howling of wolves. Some time
after I had finished my meal I do not know whether to call it
breakfast or dinner, for it was between five and six o’clock when
I had it I looked about for something to read, for I did not like
to go about the castle until I had asked the Count’s permission.
There was absolutely nothing in the room, book, newspaper, or
even writing materials; so I opened another door in the room and
found a sort of library. The door opposite mine I tried, but found
it locked.
In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of
Jonathan Marker’s Journal 19
English books, whole shelves full of them, and bound volumes
of magazines and newspapers. A table in the centre was littered
with English magazines and newspapers, though none of them
were of very recent date. The books were of the most varied
kind history, geography, politics, political economy, botany,
geology, law all relating to England and English life and cus-
toms and manners. There were even such books of reference as
the London Directory, the «Red» and «Blue» books, Whit-
aker’s Almanac, the Army and Navy Lists, and it somehow
gladdened my heart to see it the Law List.
Whilst I was looking at the books, the door opened, and tr^p
Count entered. He saluted me in a hearty way, and hoped that
I had had a good night’s rest. Then he went on:
«I am glad you found your way in here, for I am sure there is
much that will interest you. These companions» and he laid
his hand on some of the books «have been good friends to me,
and for some years past, ever since I had the idea of going to
London, have given me many, many hours of pleasure. Through
them I have come to know your great England; and to know her
is to love her. I long to go through the crowded streets of your
mighty London, to be in the midst of the whirl and rush of
humanity, to share its life, its change, its death, and all that
makes it what it is. But alas! as yet I only know your tongue
through books. To you, my friend, I look that I know it to
speak.»
«But, Count,» I said, «you know and speak English thor-
oughly!» He bowed gravely.
«I thank you, my friend, for your all too-flattering estimate,
but yet I fear that I am but a little way on the road I would
travel. True, I know the grammar and the words, but yet I
know not how to speak them.»
«Indeed,» I said, «you speak excellently.»
«Not so,» he answered. «Well, I know that, did I move and
speak in your London, none there are who would not know me
for a stranger. That is not enough for me. Here I am noble; I
am boyar; the common people know me, and I am master. But
a stranger in a strange land, he is no one; men know him not
and to know not is to care not for. I am content if I am like the
rest, so that no man stops if he see me, or pause in his speaking
if he hear my words, «Ha, ha! a stranger!» I have been so long
master that I would be master still or at least that none other
should be master of me. You come to me not alone as agent of
my friend Peter Hawkins, of Exeter, to tell me all about my new
2O Dracula
estate in London. You shall, I trust, rest here with me awhile, so
that by our talking I may learn the English intonation; and I
would that you tell me when I make error, even of the smallest,
in my speaking. I am sorry that I had to be away so long to-day;
but you will, I know, forgive one who has so many important
affairs in hand.»
Of course I said all I could about being willing, and asked if
I might come into that room when I chose. He answered: «Yes,
certainly,» and added:
«You may go anywhere you wish in the castle, except where
the doors are locked, where of course you will not wish to go.
There is reason that all things are as they are, and did you see
with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps
better understand.» I said I was sure of this, and then he went
on:
«We are in Transylvania; and Transylvania is not England.
Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many
strange things. Nay, from what you have told me of your ex-
periences already, you know something of what strange things
there may be.»
This led to much conversation; and as it was evident that he
wanted to talk, if only for talking’s sake, I asked him many ques-
tions regarding things that had already happened to me or come
within my notice. Sometimes he sheered off the subject, or turned
the conversation by pretending not to understand; but generally
he answered all I asked most frankly. Then as time went on,
and I had got somewhat bolder, I asked him of some of the
strange things of the preceding night, as, for instance, why the
coachman went to the places where he had seen the blue flames.
He then explained to me that it was commonly believed that on
a certain night of the year last night, in fact, when all evil
spirits are supposed to have unchecked sway a blue flame is
seen over any place where treasure has been concealed. «That
treasure has been hidden,“ he went on, „in the region through
which you came last night, there can be but little doubt; for it
was the ground fought over for centuries by the Wallachian,
the Saxon, and the Turk. Why, there is hardly a foot of soil in
all this region that has not been enriched by the blood of men,
patriots or invaders. In old days there were stirring times, when
the Austrian and the Hungarian came up in hordes, and the
patriots went out to meet them men and women, the aged and
the children too and waited their coming on the rocks above
the passes, that they might sweep destruction on them with
Jonathan Marker’s Journal 21
their artificial avalanches. When the invader was triumphant he
found but little, for whatever there was had been sheltered in the
friendly soil.»
«But how,» said I, «can it have remained so long undis-
covered, when there is a sure index to it if men will but take the
trouble to look? "The Count smiled, and as his lips ran back over
his gums, the long, sharp, canine teeth showed out strangely;
he answered:
«Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool! Those
flames only appear on one night; and on that night no man of
this land will, if he can help it, stir without his doors. And, dear
sir, even if he did he would not know what to do. Why, even the
peasant that you tell me of who marked the place of the flame
would not know where to look in daylight even for his own work.
Even you would not, I dare be sworn, be able to find these places
again?»
«There you are right,» I said. «I know no more than the dead
where even to look for them.» Then we drifted into other mat-
ters.
«Come, ' he said at last, «tell me of London and 01 the house
which you have procured for me.» With an apology for my re-
missness, I went into my own room to get the papers from my
bag. Whilst I was placing them in order I heard a rattling of
china and silver in the next room, and as I passed through, no-
ticed that the table had been, cleared and the lamp lit, for it was
by this time deep into the dark. The lamps were also lit in the
study or library, and I found the Count lying on the sofa, read-
ing, of all things in the world, an English Bradshaw’s Guide.
When I came in he cleared the books and papers from the table;
and with him I went into plans and deeds and figures of all
sorts. He was interested in everything, and asked me a myriad
questions about the place and its surroundings. He clearly had
studied beforehand all he could get on the subject of the neigh-
bourhood, for he evidently at the end knew very much more than
I did. When I remarked this, he answered:
«Well, but, my friend, is it not needful that I should? When
I go there I shall be all alone, and my friend Harker Jonathan
nay, pardon me, I fall into my country’s habit of putting your
patronymic first my friend Jonathan Harker will not be by
my side to correct and aid me. He will be in Exeter, miles away,
probably working at papers of the law with my other friend,
Peter Hawkins. So!»
We went thoroughly into the business of the purchase of the
22 Dracula
estate at Purfleet. When I had told him the facts and got his
signature to the necessary papers, and had written a letter with
them ready to post to Mr. Hawkins, he began to ask me how I
had come across so suitable a place. I read to him the notes which
I had made at the time, and which I inscribe here :
«At Purfleet, on a by-road, I came across just such a place as
seemed to be required, and where was displayed a dilapidated
notice that the place was for sale. It is surrounded by a high wall,
of ancient structure, built of heavy stones, and has not been
repaired for a large number of years. The closed gates are of
heavy old oak and iron, all eaten with rust.
«The estate is called Carfax, no doubt a corruption of the old
Quatre Face, as the house is four-sided, agreeing with the car-
dinal points of the compass. It contains in all some twenty acres,
quite surrounded by the solid stone wall above mentioned.
There are many trees on it, which make it in places gloomy, and
there is a deep, dark-looking pond or small lake, evidently fed
t> y some springs, as the water is clear and flows away in a fair-
sized stream. The house is very large and of all periods back, I
should say, to mediaeval times, for one part is of stone im-
mensely thick, with only a few windows high up and heavily
barred with iron. It looks like part of a keep, and is close to an old
chapel or church. I could not enter it, as I had not the key of the
door leading to it from the house, but I have taken with my kodak
views of it from various points. The house has been added to,
but in a very straggling way, and I can only guess at the amount
of ground it covers, which must be very great. There are but few
houses close at hand, one being a very large house only recently
added to and formed into a private lunatic asylum. It is not,
however, visible from the grounds.»
When I had finished, he said:
«I am glad that it is old and big. I myself am of an old family,
and to live in a new house would kill me. A house cannot be made
habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up
a century. I rejoice also that there is a chapel of old times. We
Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may lie
amongst the common dead. I» seek not gaiety nor mirth, not
the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling
waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young;
and my heart, through weary years of mourning over the dead,
is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, the walls of my castle are
broken; the shadows are many, and the wind breathes cold
through the broken battlements and casements. I love the
Jonathan Marker’s Journal 23
shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts
when I may.» Somehow his words and his look did not seem to
accord, or else it was that his cast of face made his smile look
malignant and saturnine.
Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asidng me to put all my
papers together. He was some little time away, and I began to
look at some of the books around me. One was an atlas, which
I found opened naturally at England, as if that map had been
much used. On looking at it I found in certain places little rings
marked, and on examining these I noticed that one was near
London on the east side, manifestly where his new estate was
situated; the other two were Exeter, and Whitby on the York-
shire coast.
It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned.
«Aha!» he said; «still at your books? Good! But you must not
work always. Come; I am informed that your supper is ready.»
He took my arm, and we went into the next room, where I found
an excellent supper ready on the table. The Count again excused
himself, as he had dined out on his being away from home. But
he sat as on the previous night, and chatted whilst I ate. After
supper I smoked, as on the last evening, and the Count stayed
with me, chatting and asking questions on every conceivable
subject, hour after hour. I felt that it was getting very late in-
deed, but I did not say anything, for I felt under obligation to
meet my host’s wishes in every way. I was not sleepy, as the
long sleep yesterday had fortified me; but I could not help ex-
periencing that chill which comes over one at the coming of the
dawn, which is like, in its way, the turn of the tide. They say
that people who are near death die generally at the change to
the dawn or at the turn of the tide; any one who has when tired,
and tied as it were to his post, experienced this change in the
atmosphere can well believe it. All at once we heard the crow
of a cock coming up with preternatural shrillness through the
clear morning air; Count Dracula, jumping to his feet, said:
«Why, there is the morning again! How remiss I am to let
you stay up so long. You must make your conversation regard-
ing my dear new country of England less interesting, so that I
may not forget how time flies by us,» and, with a courtly bow,
he quickly left me.
I went into my own room and drew the curtains, but there was
little to notice; my window opened into the courtyard, all I
could see was the warm grey of quickening sky. So I pulled the
curtains again, and have written of this day.
24 Dracula
8 May. I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was get-
ting too diffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail from
s the first, for there is something so strange about this place and
all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy. I wish I were safe out of
it, or that I had never come. It may be that this strange night-
existence is telling on me; but would that that were all! If there
were any one to talk to I could bear it, but there is no one. I
have only the Count to speak with, and he! I fear I am myself
the only living soul within the place. Let me be prosaic so far as
facts can be; it wiirhelp me to bear up, and imagination must
not run riot with me. If it does I am lost. Let me say at once how
I stand or seem to.
I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and feeling that
I could not sleep any more, got up. I had hung my shaving glass
by the window, and was just beginning to shave. Suddenly I
felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count’s voice saying
to me, "Good-morning.» I started, for it amazed me that I had
not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole
room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly, – but did
not notice it at the moment. Having answered the Count’s
salutation, I turned to the glass again to see how I had been
mistaken. This time there could be no error, for the man was
close to me, and I could see him over my shoulder. But there
was no reflection of him in the mirror! The whole room behind
me was displayed; but there was no sign of a man in it, except
myself. This was startling, and, coming on the top of so many
strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling of
uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near; but at
the instant I saw that the cut had bled a little, and the blood
was trickling over my chin. I laid down the razor, turning as I
did so half round to look for some sticking plaster. When the
Count saw my lacCj, Jiis eyes blazed_with a sort of demoniac
fury, ancThe suddenly made a grab at myj^roat.,! drewaway,
and his hand touched the.string of beads which held the crucifix.
It made an instant change ir> Mm, for the fury passed so quickly
that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.
«Take care,» he said, «take care how you cut yourself. It is
more dangerous than you think in this country.» Then seizing
the shaving glass, he went on: «And this is the wretched thing
that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity.
Away with it! "and opening the heavy window with one wrench
of his terrible hand, he flung out the glass, which was shattered
into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below.
Jonathan Marker’s Journal 25
Then he withdrew without a word. It is very annoying, for I do
not see how I am to shave, unless in my watch-case or the bot-
tom of the shaving-pot, which is fortunately of metal.
When I went into the dining-room, breakfast was prepared;
but I could not find the Count anywhere. So I breakfasted alone.
It is strange that as yet I have not seen the Count eat or drink.
He must be a very peculiar man! After breakfast I did a little
exploring in the castle. I went out on the stairs, and found a room
looking towards the South. The view was magnificent, and from
where I stood there was every opportunity of seeing it. The
castle is on the very edge of a terrible precipice. A stone falling
from the window would fall a thousand feet without touching
anything! As far as the eye can reach is a sea of green tree tops,
with occasionally a deep rift where there is a chasm. Here and
there are silver threads where the rivers wind in deep gorges
through the forests.
But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen
the view I explored further; doors, doors, doors everywhere, and
all locked and bolted. In no place save from the windows in the
castle walls is there an available exit.
The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!