Замок Дракулы в Румынии 2 страница

narrow roadway which ran sharply to the right.

 

Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places arched right over the

roadway till we passed as through a tunnel; and again great frowning

rocks guarded us boldly on either side. Though we were in shelter, we

could hear the rising wind, for it moaned and whistled through the

rocks, and the branches of the trees crashed together as we swept along.

It grew colder and colder still, and fine, powdery snow began to fall,

so that soon we and all around us were covered with a white blanket. The

keen wind still carried the howling of the dogs, though this grew

fainter as we went on our way. The baying of the wolves sounded nearer

and nearer, as though they were closing round on us from every side. I

grew dreadfully afraid, and the horses shared my fear. The driver,

however, was not in the least disturbed; he kept turning his head to

left and right, but I could not see anything through the darkness.

 

Suddenly, away on our left, I saw a faint flickering blue flame. The

driver saw it at the same moment; he at once checked the horses, and,

jumping to the ground, disappeared into the darkness. I did not know

what to do, the less as the howling of the wolves grew closer; but while

I wondered the driver suddenly appeared again, and without a word took

his seat, and we resumed our journey. I think I must have fallen asleep

and kept dreaming of the incident, for it seemed to be repeated

endlessly, and now looking back, it is like a sort of awful nightmare.

Once the flame appeared so near the road, that even in the darkness

around us I could watch the driver's motions. He went rapidly to where

the blue flame arose--it must have been very faint, for it did not seem

to illumine the place around it at all--and gathering a few stones,

formed them into some device. Once there appeared a strange optical

effect: when he stood between me and the flame he did not obstruct it,

for I could see its ghostly flicker all the same. This startled me, but

as the effect was only momentary, I took it that my eyes deceived me

straining through the darkness. Then for a time there were no blue

flames, and we sped onwards through the gloom, with the howling of the

wolves around us, as though they were following in a moving circle.

 

At last there came a time when the driver went further afield than he

had yet gone, and during his absence, the horses began to tremble worse

than ever and to snort and scream with fright. I could not see any cause

for it, for the howling of the wolves had ceased altogether; but just

then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared behind the

jagged crest of a beetling, pine-clad rock, and by its light I saw

around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues,

with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were a hundred times more

terrible in the grim silence which held them than even when they howled.

For myself, I felt a sort of paralysis of fear. It is only when a man

feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can understand

their true import.

 

All at once the wolves began to howl as though the moonlight had had

some peculiar effect on them. The horses jumped about and reared, and

looked helplessly round with eyes that rolled in a way painful to see;

but the living ring of terror encompassed them on every side; and they

had perforce to remain within it. I called to the coachman to come, for

it seemed to me that our only chance was to try to break out through the

ring and to aid his approach. I shouted and beat the side of the

caleche, hoping by the noise to scare the wolves from that side, so as

to give him a chance of reaching the trap. How he came there, I know

not, but I heard his voice raised in a tone of imperious command, and

looking towards the sound, saw him stand in the roadway. As he swept his

long arms, as though brushing aside some impalpable obstacle, the wolves

fell back and back further still. Just then a heavy cloud passed across

the face of the moon, so that we were again in darkness.

 

When I could see again the driver was climbing into the caleche, and the

wolves had disappeared. This was all so strange and uncanny that a

dreadful fear came upon me, and I was afraid to speak or move. The time

seemed interminable as we swept on our way, now in almost complete

darkness, for the rolling clouds obscured the moon. We kept on

ascending, with occasional periods of quick descent, but in the main

always ascending. Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact that the

driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a

vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light,

and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the moonlit

sky.

CHAPTER II

 

JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL--_continued_

 

 

_5 May._--I must have been asleep, for certainly if I had been fully

awake I must have noticed the approach of such a remarkable 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, for 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 adventure 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

London 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 nightmare to me, and I

expected that I should suddenly awake, and 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 foot, 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 with a courtly

gesture, saying in excellent 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 winding 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 without a window of any sort. Passing

through this, he opened another 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 entrusted 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 I 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 confidence. 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 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 desire had drawn

up a chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigar 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 moustache, was fixed and rather

cruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth; these protruded 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 extraordinary 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 palm. 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 over me, which, do what I would, I could

not conceal. 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 from

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:--

 

"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 courteous 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!

 

* * * * *

 

_7 May._--It is again early morning, but I have rested and enjoyed 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 hearth. 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 beautifully 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 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 customs and manners. There were even such books of reference as the

London Directory, the "Red" and "Blue" books, Whitaker'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 the 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 thoroughly!" 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 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 experiences 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 questions 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 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 undiscovered, 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 matters.

 

"Come," he said at last, "tell me of London and of the house which you

have procured for me." With an apology for my remissness, 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, noticed 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,

reading, 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 neighbourhood, 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 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 cardinal 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 by 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

immensely 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