There lay Lucy, seemingly just as we had seen her the night before her funeral. She was,if possible, more radiantly beautiful than ever; and I could not believe that she was dead.The lips were red, nay redder than before; and on the cheeks was a delicate bloom.
“Is this a juggle?” I said to him.
“Are you convinced now?” said the Professor in response, and as he spoke he put over his hand,and in a way that made me shudder, pulled back the dead lips and showed the white teeth.
“See,” he went on, “see, they are even sharper than before.With this and this”--and he touched one of the canine teeth and that below it--“the little children can be bitten. Are you of belief now, friend John?” Once more, argumentative hostility woke within me.I _could_ not accept such an overwhelming idea as he suggested; so,with an attempt to argue of which I was even at the moment ashamed, I said:--
“She may have been placed here since last night.”
“Indeed?That is so, and by whom?”
“I do not know. Some one has done it.”
“And yet she has been dead one week. Most peoples in that time would not look so.” I had no answer for this, so was silent. Van Helsing did not seem to notice my silence;at any rate, he showed neither chagrin nor triumph.He was looking intently at the face of the dead woman, raising the eyelids and looking at the eyes,and once more opening the lips and examining the teeth. Then he turned to me and said:--
“Here, there is one thing which is different from all recorded;here is some dual life that is not as the common.She was bitten by the vampire when she was in a trance, sleep-walking--oh, you start;you do not know that, friend John, but you shall know it all later--and in trance could he best come to take more blood.In trance she died, and in trance she is Un-Dead, too. So it is that she differ from all other.Usually when the Un-Dead sleep at home”--as he spoke he made a comprehensive sweep of his arm to designate what to a vampire was “home”--“their face show what they are, but this so sweet that was when she not Un-Dead she go back to the nothings of the common dead. There is no malign there, see, and so it make hard that I must kill her in her sleep.” This turned my blood cold, and it began to dawn upon me that I was accepting Van Helsing’s theories; but if she were really dead, what was there of terror in the idea of killing her?He looked up at me, and evidently saw the change in my face, for he said almost joyously:--
“Ah, you believe now?”
I answered: “Do not press me too hard all at once. I am willing to accept. How will you do this bloody work?”
“I shall cut off her head and fill her mouth with garlic,and I shall drive a stake through her body.” It made me shudder to think of so mutilating the body of the woman whom I had loved.And yet the feeling was not so strong as I had expected. I was, in fact,beginning to shudder at the presence of this being, this Un-Dead, as Van Helsing called it,and to loathe it. Is it possible that love is all subjective, or all objective?
I waited a considerable time for Van Helsing to begin, but he stood as if wrapped in thought.Presently he closed the catch of his bag with a snap, and said:--
“I have been thinking, and have made up my mind as to what is best.If I did simply follow my inclining I would do now, at this moment, what is to be done;but there are other things to follow, and things that are thousand times more difficult in that them we do not know.This is simple. She have yet no life taken, though that is of time;and to act now would be to take danger from her for ever. But then we may have to want Arthur, and how shall we tell him of this?If you, who saw the wounds on Lucy’s throat,and saw the wounds so similar on the child’s at the hospital; if you,who saw the coffin empty last night and full to-day with a woman who have not change only to be more rose and more beautiful in a whole week,after she die--if you know of this and know of the white figure last night that brought the child to the churchyard,and yet of your own senses you did not believe, how, then, can I expect Arthur,who know none of those things, to believe?He doubted me when I took him from her kiss when she was dying.I know he has forgiven me because in some mistaken idea I have done things that prevent him say good-bye as he ought;and he may think that in some more mistaken idea this woman was buried alive;and that in most mistake of all we have killed her. He will then argue back that it is we,mistaken ones, that have killed her by our ideas; and so he will be much unhappy always.Yet he never can be sure; and that is the worst of all.And he will sometimes think that she he loved was buried alive,and that will paint his dreams with horrors of what she must have suffered; and again,he will think that we may be right, and that his so beloved was, after all, an Un-Dead. No!I told him once, and since then I learn much. Now, since I know it is all true,a hundred thousand times more do I know that he must pass through the bitter waters to reach the sweet.He, poor fellow, must have one hour that will make the very face of heaven grow black to him;then we can act for good all round and send him peace. My mind is made up. Let us go.You return home for to-night to your asylum, and see that all be well. As for me,I shall spend the night here in this churchyard in my own way.To-morrow night you will come to me to the Berkeley Hotel at ten of the clock.I shall send for Arthur to come too, and also that so fine young man of America that gave his blood.Later we shall all have work to do. I come with you so far as Piccadilly and there dine,for I must be back here before the sun set.”
So we locked the tomb and came away, and got over the wall of the churchyard,which was not much of a task, and drove back to Piccadilly.
_Note left by Van Helsing in his portmanteau, Berkeley Hotel directed to John Seward, M. D._
(Not delivered.)
“_27 September._
“Friend John,--
“I write this in case anything should happen. I go alone to watch in that churchyard.It pleases me that the Un-Dead, Miss Lucy, shall not leave to-night,that so on the morrow night she may be more eager.Therefore I shall fix some things she like not--garlic and a crucifix--and so seal up the door of the tomb.She is young as Un-Dead, and will heed. Moreover, these are only to prevent her coming out;they may not prevail on her wanting to get in; for then the Un-Dead is desperate,and must find the line of least resistance, whatsoever it may be.I shall be at hand all the night from sunset till after the sunrise,and if there be aught that may be learned I shall learn it. For Miss Lucy or from her,I have no fear; but that other to whom is there that she is Un-Dead,he have now the power to seek her tomb and find shelter. He is cunning, as I know from Mr.Jonathan and from the way that all along he have fooled us when he played with us for Miss Lucy’s life,and we lost; and in many ways the Un-Dead are strong.He have always the strength in his hand of twenty men;even we four who gave our strength to Miss Lucy it also is all to him. Besides,he can summon his wolf and I know not what.So if it be that he come thither on this night he shall find me;but none other shall--until it be too late. But it may be that he will not attempt the place.There is no reason why he should; his hunting ground is more full of game than the churchyard where the Un-Dead woman sleep, and the one old man watch.
“Therefore I write this in case.... Take the papers that are with this,the diaries of Harker and the rest, and read them, and then find this great Un-Dead,and cut off his head and burn his heart or drive a stake through it, so that the world may rest from him.
“If it be so, farewell.
“VAN HELSING.”
_Dr. Seward’s Diary._
_28 September._--It is wonderful what a good night’s sleep will do for one.Yesterday I was almost willing to accept Van Helsing’s monstrous ideas;but now they seem to start out lurid before me as outrages on common sense.I have no doubt that he believes it all. I wonder if his mind can have become in any way unhinged.Surely there must be _some_ rational explanation of all these mysterious things.Is it possible that the Professor can have done it himself?He is so abnormally clever that if he went off his head he would carry out his intent with regard to some fixed idea in a wonderful way.I am loath to think it, and indeed it would be almost as great a marvel as the other to find that Van Helsing was mad;but anyhow I shall watch him carefully. I may get some light on the mystery.
* * * * *
_29 September, morning._.... Last night, at a little before ten o’clock,Arthur and Quincey came into Van Helsing’s room; he told us all that he wanted us to do,but especially addressing himself to Arthur, as if all our wills were centred in his.He began by saying that he hoped we would all come with him too, “for,” he said,“there is a grave duty to be done there. You were doubtless surprised at my letter?” This query was directly addressed to Lord Godalming.
“I was. It rather upset me for a bit. There has been so much trouble around my house of late that I could do without any more.I have been curious, too, as to what you mean. Quincey and I talked it over;but the more we talked, the more puzzled we got,till now I can say for myself that I’m about up a tree as to any meaning about anything.”
“Me too,” said Quincey Morris laconically.
“Oh,” said the Professor, “then you are nearer the beginning, both of you, than friend John here,who has to go a long way back before he can even get so far as to begin.”
It was evident that he recognised my return to my old doubting frame of mind without my saying a word.Then, turning to the other two, he said with intense gravity:--
“I want your permission to do what I think good this night. It is, I know, much to ask;and when you know what it is I propose to do you will know, and only then, how much.Therefore may I ask that you promise me in the dark, so that afterwards,though you may be angry with me for a time--I must not disguise from myself the possibility that such may be--you shall not blame yourselves for anything. ”
“That’s frank anyhow,” broke in Quincey. “I’ll answer for the Professor.I don’t quite see his drift, but I swear he’s honest; and that’s good enough for me.”
“I thank you, sir,” said Van Helsing proudly.“I have done myself the honour of counting you one trusting friend,and such endorsement is dear to me.” He held out a hand, which Quincey took.
Then Arthur spoke out:--
“Dr. Van Helsing, I don’t quite like to ‘buy a pig in a poke,’ as they say in Scotland,and if it be anything in which my honour as a gentleman or my faith as a Christian is concerned,I cannot make such a promise. If you can assure me that what you intend does not violate either of these two,then I give my consent at once; though for the life of me,I cannot understand what you are driving at.”
“I accept your limitation,” said Van Helsing,“and all I ask of you is that if you feel it necessary to condemn any act of mine,you will first consider it well and be satisfied that it does not violate your reservations.”
“Agreed!” said Arthur; “that is only fair. And now that the _pourparlers_ are over, may I ask what it is we are to do?”
“I want you to come with me, and to come in secret, to the churchyard at Kingstead.”
Arthur’s face fell as he said in an amazed sort of way:--
“Where poor Lucy is buried?” The Professor bowed. Arthur went on: “And when there?”
“To enter the tomb!” Arthur stood up.
“Professor, are you in earnest; or it is some monstrous joke?Pardon me, I see that you are in earnest.” He sat down again,but I could see that he sat firmly and proudly, as one who is on his dignity.There was silence until he asked again:--
“And when in the tomb?”
“To open the coffin.”
“This is too much!” he said, angrily rising again. “I am willing to be patient in all things that are reasonable;but in this--this desecration of the grave--of one who----” He fairly choked with indignation. The Professor looked pityingly at him.
“If I could spare you one pang, my poor friend,” he said, “God knows I would.But this night our feet must tread in thorny paths; or later, and for ever,the feet you love must walk in paths of flame!”
Arthur looked up with set white face and said:--
“Take care, sir, take care!”
“Would it not be well to hear what I have to say?” said Van Helsing. “And then you will at least know the limit of my purpose. Shall I go on?”
“That’s fair enough,” broke in Morris.
After a pause Van Helsing went on, evidently with an effort:--
“Miss Lucy is dead; is it not so?Yes!Then there can be no wrong to her. But if she be not dead----”
Arthur jumped to his feet.
“Good God!” he cried. “What do you mean?Has there been any mistake; has she been buried alive?” He groaned in anguish that not even hope could soften.
“I did not say she was alive, my child; I did not think it.I go no further than to say that she might be Un-Dead.”
“Un-Dead!Not alive!What do you mean?Is this all a nightmare, or what is it?”
“There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age they may solve only in part.Believe me, we are now on the verge of one. But I have not done.May I cut off the head of dead Miss Lucy?”
“Heavens and earth, no!” cried Arthur in a storm of passion. “Not for the wide world will I consent to any mutilation of her dead body.Dr. Van Helsing, you try me too far. What have I done to you that you should torture me so?What did that poor, sweet girl do that you should want to cast such dishonour on her grave?Are you mad to speak such things, or am I mad to listen to them?Don’t dare to think more of such a desecration; I shall not give my consent to anything you do.I have a duty to do in protecting her grave from outrage; and, by God, I shall do it!”
Van Helsing rose up from where he had all the time been seated, and said, gravely and sternly:--
“My Lord Godalming, I, too, have a duty to do, a duty to others, a duty to you, a duty to the dead; and, by God, I shall do it!All I ask you now is that you come with me, that you look and listen;and if when later I make the same request you do not be more eager for its fulfilment even than I am,then--then I shall do my duty, whatever it may seem to me. And then,to follow of your Lordship’s wishes I shall hold myself at your disposal to render an account to you,when and where you will.” His voice broke a little, and he went on with a voice full of pity:--
“But, I beseech you, do not go forth in anger with me.In a long life of acts which were often not pleasant to do, and which sometimes did wring my heart,I have never had so heavy a task as now.Believe me that if the time comes for you to change your mind towards me,one look from you will wipe away all this so sad hour,for I would do what a man can to save you from sorrow. Just think.For why should I give myself so much of labour and so much of sorrow?I have come here from my own land to do what I can of good; at the first to please my friend John,and then to help a sweet young lady, whom, too, I came to love.For her--I am ashamed to say so much, but I say it in kindness--I gave what you gave;the blood of my veins; I gave it, I, who was not, like you, her lover,but only her physician and her friend. I gave to her my nights and days--before death, after death;and if my death can do her good even now, when she is the dead Un-Dead, she shall have it freely.” He said this with a very grave, sweet pride, and Arthur was much affected by it.He took the old man’s hand and said in a broken voice:--
“Oh, it is hard to think of it, and I cannot understand; but at least I shall go with you and wait.”
CHAPTER XVI
DR. SEWARD’S DIARY--_continued_
It was just a quarter before twelve o’clock when we got into the churchyard over the low wall.The night was dark with occasional gleams of moonlight between the rents of the heavy clouds that scudded across the sky.We all kept somehow close together, with Van Helsing slightly in front as he led the way.When we had come close to the tomb I looked well at Arthur,for I feared that the proximity to a place laden with so sorrowful a memory would upset him;but he bore himself well. I took it that the very mystery of the proceeding was in some way a counteractant to his grief.The Professor unlocked the door, and seeing a natural hesitation amongst us for various reasons,solved the difficulty by entering first himself. The rest of us followed, and he closed the door.He then lit a dark lantern and pointed to the coffin. Arthur stepped forward hesitatingly; Van Helsing said to me:--
“You were with me here yesterday. Was the body of Miss Lucy in that coffin?”
“It was.” The Professor turned to the rest saying:--
“You hear; and yet there is no one who does not believe with me.” He took his screwdriver and again took off the lid of the coffin. Arthur looked on,very pale but silent; when the lid was removed he stepped forward.He evidently did not know that there was a leaden coffin, or, at any rate, had not thought of it.When he saw the rent in the lead, the blood rushed to his face for an instant,but as quickly fell away again, so that he remained of a ghastly whiteness; he was still silent.Van Helsing forced back the leaden flange, and we all looked in and recoiled.
The coffin was empty!
For several minutes no one spoke a word. The silence was broken by Quincey Morris:--
“Professor, I answered for you. Your word is all I want.I wouldn’t ask such a thing ordinarily--I wouldn’t so dishonour you as to imply a doubt;but this is a mystery that goes beyond any honour or dishonour. Is this your doing?”
“I swear to you by all that I hold sacred that I have not removed nor touched her.What happened was this: Two nights ago my friend Seward and I came here--with good purpose,believe me. I opened that coffin, which was then sealed up, and we found it, as now, empty.We then waited, and saw something white come through the trees.The next day we came here in day-time, and she lay there. Did she not, friend John?”
“Yes.”
“That night we were just in time. One more so small child was missing, and we find it, thank God,unharmed amongst the graves. Yesterday I came here before sundown,for at sundown the Un-Dead can move. I waited here all the night till the sun rose,but I saw nothing. It was most probable that it was because I had laid over the clamps of those doors garlic,which the Un-Dead cannot bear, and other things which they shun. Last night there was no exodus,so to-night before the sundown I took away my garlic and other things.And so it is we find this coffin empty. But bear with me. So far there is much that is strange.Wait you with me outside, unseen and unheard, and things much stranger are yet to be.So”--here he shut the dark slide of his lantern--“now to the outside.” He opened the door,and we filed out, he coming last and locking the door behind him.
Oh!but it seemed fresh and pure in the night air after the terror of that vault.How sweet it was to see the clouds race by,and the passing gleams of the moonlight between the scudding clouds crossing and passing--like the gladness and sorrow of a man’s life;how sweet it was to breathe the fresh air, that had no taint of death and decay;how humanising to see the red lighting of the sky beyond the hill,and to hear far away the muffled roar that marks the life of a great city.Each in his own way was solemn and overcome. Arthur was silent, and was, I could see,striving to grasp the purpose and the inner meaning of the mystery. I was myself tolerably patient,and half inclined again to throw aside doubt and to accept Van Helsing’s conclusions.Quincey Morris was phlegmatic in the way of a man who accepts all things,and accepts them in the spirit of cool bravery, with hazard of all he has to stake.Not being able to smoke, he cut himself a good-sized plug of tobacco and began to chew.As to Van Helsing, he was employed in a definite way.First he took from his bag a mass of what looked like thin, wafer-like biscuit,which was carefully rolled up in a white napkin;next he took out a double-handful of some whitish stuff, like dough or putty.He crumbled the wafer up fine and worked it into the mass between his hands. This he then took,and rolling it into thin strips, began to lay them into the crevices between the door and its setting in the tomb.I was somewhat puzzled at this, and being close, asked him what it was that he was doing.Arthur and Quincey drew near also, as they too were curious. He answered:--
“I am closing the tomb, so that the Un-Dead may not enter.”
“And is that stuff you have put there going to do it?” asked Quincey. “Great Scott!Is this a game?”
“It is.”
“What is that which you are using?” This time the question was by Arthur. Van Helsing reverently lifted his hat as he answered:--
“The Host. I brought it from Amsterdam. I have an Indulgence.” It was an answer that appalled the most sceptical of us,and we felt individually that in the presence of such earnest purpose as the Professor’s,a purpose which could thus use the to him most sacred of things, it was impossible to distrust.In respectful silence we took the places assigned to us close round the tomb,but hidden from the sight of any one approaching. I pitied the others, especially Arthur.I had myself been apprenticed by my former visits to this watching horror; and yet I,who had up to an hour ago repudiated the proofs, felt my heart sink within me.Never did tombs look so ghastly white; never did cypress, or yew,or juniper so seem the embodiment of funereal gloom;never did tree or grass wave or rustle so ominously; never did bough creak so mysteriously;and never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful presage through the night.
There was a long spell of silence, a big, aching void, and then from the Professor a keen “S-s-s-s!” He pointed; and far down the avenue of yews we saw a white figure advance--a dim white figure,which held something dark at its breast. The figure stopped,and at the moment a ray of moonlight fell upon the masses of driving clouds and showed in startling prominence a dark-haired woman,dressed in the cerements of the grave. We could not see the face,for it was bent down over what we saw to be a fair-haired child.There was a pause and a sharp little cry, such as a child gives in sleep,or a dog as it lies before the fire and dreams. We were starting forward,but the Professor’s warning hand, seen by us as he stood behind a yew-tree, kept us back;and then as we looked the white figure moved forwards again.It was now near enough for us to see clearly, and the moonlight still held.My own heart grew cold as ice, and I could hear the gasp of Arthur,as we recognised the features of Lucy Westenra. Lucy Westenra, but yet how changed.The sweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the purity to voluptuous wantonness.Van Helsing stepped out, and, obedient to his gesture, we all advanced too;the four of us ranged in a line before the door of the tomb.Van Helsing raised his lantern and drew the slide;by the concentrated light that fell on Lucy’s face we could see that the lips were crimson with fresh blood,and that the stream had trickled over her chin and stained the purity of her lawn death-robe.
We shuddered with horror. I could see by the tremulous light that even Van Helsing’s iron nerve had failed.Arthur was next to me, and if I had not seized his arm and held him up, he would have fallen.
When Lucy--I call the thing that was before us Lucy because it bore her shape--saw us she drew back with an angry snarl,such as a cat gives when taken unawares; then her eyes ranged over us.Lucy’s eyes in form and colour; but Lucy’s eyes unclean and full of hell-fire, instead of the pure,gentle orbs we knew. At that moment the remnant of my love passed into hate and loathing;had she then to be killed, I could have done it with savage delight. As she looked,her eyes blazed with unholy light, and the face became wreathed with a voluptuous smile. Oh, God, how it made me shudder to see it!With a careless motion, she flung to the ground, callous as a devil,the child that up to now she had clutched strenuously to her breast,growling over it as a dog growls over a bone. The child gave a sharp cry, and lay there moaning.There was a cold-bloodedness in the act which wrung a groan from Arthur;when she advanced to him with outstretched arms and a wanton smile he fell back and hid his face in his hands.
She still advanced, however, and with a languorous, voluptuous grace, said:--
“Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to me. My arms are hungry for you. Come,and we can rest together. Come, my husband, come!”
There was something diabolically sweet in her tones--something of the tingling of glass when struck--which rang through the brains even of us who heard the words addressed to another. As for Arthur, he seemed under a spell; moving his hands from his face, he opened wide his arms. She was leaping for them, when Van Helsing sprang forward and held between them his little golden crucifix. She recoiled from it, and, with a suddenly distorted face, full of rage, dashed past him as if to enter the tomb.
When within a foot or two of the door, however, she stopped,as if arrested by some irresistible force. Then she turned,and her face was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp,which had now no quiver from Van Helsing’s iron nerves.Never did I see such baffled malice on a face; and never, I trust,shall such ever be seen again by mortal eyes. The beautiful colour became livid,the eyes seemed to throw out sparks of hell-fire,the brows were wrinkled as though the folds of the flesh were the coils of Medusa’s snakes,and the lovely, blood-stained mouth grew to an open square,as in the passion masks of the Greeks and Japanese.If ever a face meant death--if looks could kill--we saw it at that moment.
And so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity,she remained between the lifted crucifix and the sacred closing of her means of entry.Van Helsing broke the silence by asking Arthur:--
“Answer me, oh my friend!Am I to proceed in my work?”
Arthur threw himself on his knees, and hid his face in his hands, as he answered:--
“Do as you will, friend; do as you will. There can be no horror like this ever any more;” and he groaned in spirit. Quincey and I simultaneously moved towards him, and took his arms.We could hear the click of the closing lantern as Van Helsing held it down;coming close to the tomb, he began to remove from the chinks some of the sacred emblem which he had placed there.We all looked on in horrified amazement as we saw, when he stood back, the woman,with a corporeal body as real at that moment as our own,pass in through the interstice where scarce a knife-blade could have gone.We all felt a glad sense of relief when we saw the Professor calmly restoring the strings of putty to the edges of the door.
When this was done, he lifted the child and said:
“Come now, my friends; we can do no more till to-morrow. There is a funeral at noon,so here we shall all come before long after that. The friends of the dead will all be gone by two,and when the sexton lock the gate we shall remain. Then there is more to do;but not like this of to-night. As for this little one, he is not much harm,and by to-morrow night he shall be well. We shall leave him where the police will find him,as on the other night; and then to home.” Coming close to Arthur, he said:--
“My friend Arthur, you have had a sore trial; but after, when you look back,you will see how it was necessary. You are now in the bitter waters, my child.By this time to-morrow you will, please God, have passed them, and have drunk of the sweet waters;so do not mourn overmuch. Till then I shall not ask you to forgive me.”
Arthur and Quincey came home with me, and we tried to cheer each other on the way.We had left the child in safety, and were tired;so we all slept with more or less reality of sleep.
* * * * *
_29 September, night._--A little before twelve o’clock we three--Arthur, Quincey Morris,and myself--called for the Professor. It was odd to notice that by common consent we had all put on black clothes.Of course, Arthur wore black, for he was in deep mourning, but the rest of us wore it by instinct.We got to the churchyard by half-past one, and strolled about, keeping out of official observation,so that when the gravediggers had completed their task and the sexton under the belief that every one had gone,had locked the gate, we had the place all to ourselves. Van Helsing,instead of his little black bag, had with him a long leather one, something like a cricketing bag; it was manifestly of fair weight.
When we were alone and had heard the last of the footsteps die out up the road, we silently,and as if by ordered intention, followed the Professor to the tomb. He unlocked the door,and we entered, closing it behind us. Then he took from his bag the lantern, which he lit,and also two wax candles, which, when lighted, he stuck, by melting their own ends,on other coffins, so that they might give light sufficient to work by.When he again lifted the lid off Lucy’s coffin we all looked--Arthur trembling like an aspen--and saw that the body lay there in all its death-beauty.But there was no love in my own heart, nothing but loathing for the foul Thing which had taken Lucy’s shape without her soul.I could see even Arthur’s face grow hard as he looked. Presently he said to Van Helsing:--