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harvest of flies. He is not now eating them, but putting them into a

box, as of old, and is already examining the corners of his room to find

a spider. I tried to get him to talk about the past few days, for any

clue to his thoughts would be of immense help to me; but he would not

rise. For a moment or two he looked very sad, and said in a sort of

far-away voice, as though saying it rather to himself than to me:--

 

"All over! all over! He has deserted me. No hope for me now unless I do

it for myself!" Then suddenly turning to me in a resolute way, he said:

"Doctor, won't you be very good to me and let me have a little more

sugar? I think it would be good for me."

 

"And the flies?" I said.

 

"Yes! The flies like it, too, and I like the flies; therefore I like

it." And there are people who know so little as to think that madmen do

not argue. I procured him a double supply, and left him as happy a man

as, I suppose, any in the world. I wish I could fathom his mind.

 

* * * * *

 

_Midnight._--Another change in him. I had been to see Miss Westenra,

whom I found much better, and had just returned, and was standing at our

own gate looking at the sunset, when once more I heard him yelling. As

his room is on this side of the house, I could hear it better than in

the morning. It was a shock to me to turn from the wonderful smoky

beauty of a sunset over London, with its lurid lights and inky shadows

and all the marvellous tints that come on foul clouds even as on foul

water, and to realise all the grim sternness of my own cold stone

building, with its wealth of breathing misery, and my own desolate heart

to endure it all. I reached him just as the sun was going down, and from

his window saw the red disc sink. As it sank he became less and less

frenzied; and just as it dipped he slid from the hands that held him, an

inert mass, on the floor. It is wonderful, however, what intellectual

recuperative power lunatics have, for within a few minutes he stood up

quite calmly and looked around him. I signalled to the attendants not to

hold him, for I was anxious to see what he would do. He went straight

over to the window and brushed out the crumbs of sugar; then he took his

fly-box, and emptied it outside, and threw away the box; then he shut

the window, and crossing over, sat down on his bed. All this surprised

me, so I asked him: "Are you not going to keep flies any more?"

 

"No," said he; "I am sick of all that rubbish!" He certainly is a

wonderfully interesting study. I wish I could get some glimpse of his

mind or of the cause of his sudden passion. Stop; there may be a clue

after all, if we can find why to-day his paroxysms came on at high noon

and at sunset. Can it be that there is a malign influence of the sun at

periods which affects certain natures--as at times the moon does others?

We shall see.

 

 

_Telegram, Seward, London, to Van Helsing, Amsterdam._

 

"_4 September._--Patient still better to-day."

 

 

_Telegram, Seward, London, to Van Helsing, Amsterdam._

 

"_5 September._--Patient greatly improved. Good appetite; sleeps

naturally; good spirits; colour coming back."

 

 

_Telegram, Seward, London, to Van Helsing, Amsterdam._

 

"_6 September._--Terrible charge for the worse. Come at once; do not

lose an hour. I hold over telegram to Holmwood till have seen you."

 

 

CHAPTER X

 

 

_Letter, Dr. Seward to Hon. Arthur Holmwood._

 

"_6 September._

 

"My dear Art,--

 

"My news to-day is not so good. Lucy this morning had gone back a bit.

There is, however, one good thing which has arisen from it; Mrs.

Westenra was naturally anxious concerning Lucy, and has consulted me

professionally about her. I took advantage of the opportunity, and told

her that my old master, Van Helsing, the great specialist, was coming to

stay with me, and that I would put her in his charge conjointly with

myself; so now we can come and go without alarming her unduly, for a

shock to her would mean sudden death, and this, in Lucy's weak

condition, might be disastrous to her. We are hedged in with

difficulties, all of us, my poor old fellow; but, please God, we shall

come through them all right. If any need I shall write, so that, if you

do not hear from me, take it for granted that I am simply waiting for

news. In haste

 

Yours ever,

 

"JOHN SEWARD."

 

 

_Dr. Seward's Diary._

 

_7 September._--The first thing Van Helsing said to me when we met at

Liverpool Street was:--

 

"Have you said anything to our young friend the lover of her?"

 

"No," I said. "I waited till I had seen you, as I said in my telegram. I

wrote him a letter simply telling him that you were coming, as Miss

Westenra was not so well, and that I should let him know if need be."

 

"Right, my friend," he said, "quite right! Better he not know as yet;

perhaps he shall never know. I pray so; but if it be needed, then he

shall know all. And, my good friend John, let me caution you. You deal

with the madmen. All men are mad in some way or the other; and inasmuch

as you deal discreetly with your madmen, so deal with God's madmen,

too--the rest of the world. You tell not your madmen what you do nor why

you do it; you tell them not what you think. So you shall keep knowledge

in its place, where it may rest--where it may gather its kind around it

and breed. You and I shall keep as yet what we know here, and here." He

touched me on the heart and on the forehead, and then touched himself

the same way. "I have for myself thoughts at the present. Later I shall

unfold to you."

 

"Why not now?" I asked. "It may do some good; we may arrive at some

decision." He stopped and looked at me, and said:--

 

"My friend John, when the corn is grown, even before it has

ripened--while the milk of its mother-earth is in him, and the sunshine

has not yet begun to paint him with his gold, the husbandman he pull the

ear and rub him between his rough hands, and blow away the green chaff,

and say to you: 'Look! he's good corn; he will make good crop when the

time comes.'" I did not see the application, and told him so. For reply

he reached over and took my ear in his hand and pulled it playfully, as

he used long ago to do at lectures, and said: "The good husbandman tell

you so then because he knows, but not till then. But you do not find the

good husbandman dig up his planted corn to see if he grow; that is for

the children who play at husbandry, and not for those who take it as of

the work of their life. See you now, friend John? I have sown my corn,

and Nature has her work to do in making it sprout; if he sprout at all,

there's some promise; and I wait till the ear begins to swell." He broke

off, for he evidently saw that I understood. Then he went on, and very

gravely:--

 

"You were always a careful student, and your case-book was ever more

full than the rest. You were only student then; now you are master, and

I trust that good habit have not fail. Remember, my friend, that

knowledge is stronger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker.

Even if you have not kept the good practise, let me tell you that this

case of our dear miss is one that may be--mind, I say _may be_--of such

interest to us and others that all the rest may not make him kick the

beam, as your peoples say. Take then good note of it. Nothing is too

small. I counsel you, put down in record even your doubts and surmises.

Hereafter it may be of interest to you to see how true you guess. We

learn from failure, not from success!"

 

When I described Lucy's symptoms--the same as before, but infinitely

more marked--he looked very grave, but said nothing. He took with him a

bag in which were many instruments and drugs, "the ghastly paraphernalia

of our beneficial trade," as he once called, in one of his lectures, the

equipment of a professor of the healing craft. When we were shown in,

Mrs. Westenra met us. She was alarmed, but not nearly so much as I

expected to find her. Nature in one of her beneficent moods has ordained

that even death has some antidote to its own terrors. Here, in a case

where any shock may prove fatal, matters are so ordered that, from some

cause or other, the things not personal--even the terrible change in her

daughter to whom she is so attached--do not seem to reach her. It is

something like the way Dame Nature gathers round a foreign body an

envelope of some insensitive tissue which can protect from evil that

which it would otherwise harm by contact. If this be an ordered

selfishness, then we should pause before we condemn any one for the vice

of egoism, for there may be deeper root for its causes than we have

knowledge of.

 

I used my knowledge of this phase of spiritual pathology, and laid down

a rule that she should not be present with Lucy or think of her illness

more than was absolutely required. She assented readily, so readily that

I saw again the hand of Nature fighting for life. Van Helsing and I were

shown up to Lucy's room. If I was shocked when I saw her yesterday, I

was horrified when I saw her to-day. She was ghastly, chalkily pale; the

red seemed to have gone even from her lips and gums, and the bones of

her face stood out prominently; her breathing was painful to see or

hear. Van Helsing's face grew set as marble, and his eyebrows converged

till they almost touched over his nose. Lucy lay motionless, and did not

seem to have strength to speak, so for a while we were all silent. Then

Van Helsing beckoned to me, and we went gently out of the room. The

instant we had closed the door he stepped quickly along the passage to

the next door, which was open. Then he pulled me quickly in with him and

closed the door. "My God!" he said; "this is dreadful. There is no time

to be lost. She will die for sheer want of blood to keep the heart's

action as it should be. There must be transfusion of blood at once. Is

it you or me?"

 

"I am younger and stronger, Professor. It must be me."

 

"Then get ready at once. I will bring up my bag. I am prepared."

 

I went downstairs with him, and as we were going there was a knock at

the hall-door. When we reached the hall the maid had just opened the

door, and Arthur was stepping quickly in. He rushed up to me, saying in

an eager whisper:--

 

"Jack, I was so anxious. I read between the lines of your letter, and

have been in an agony. The dad was better, so I ran down here to see for

myself. Is not that gentleman Dr. Van Helsing? I am so thankful to you,

sir, for coming." When first the Professor's eye had lit upon him he had

been angry at his interruption at such a time; but now, as he took in

his stalwart proportions and recognised the strong young manhood which

seemed to emanate from him, his eyes gleamed. Without a pause he said to

him gravely as he held out his hand:--

 

"Sir, you have come in time. You are the lover of our dear miss. She is

bad, very, very bad. Nay, my child, do not go like that." For he

suddenly grew pale and sat down in a chair almost fainting. "You are to

help her. You can do more than any that live, and your courage is your

best help."

 

"What can I do?" asked Arthur hoarsely. "Tell me, and I shall do it. My

life is hers, and I would give the last drop of blood in my body for

her." The Professor has a strongly humorous side, and I could from old

knowledge detect a trace of its origin in his answer:--

 

"My young sir, I do not ask so much as that--not the last!"

 

"What shall I do?" There was fire in his eyes, and his open nostril

quivered with intent. Van Helsing slapped him on the shoulder. "Come!"

he said. "You are a man, and it is a man we want. You are better than

me, better than my friend John." Arthur looked bewildered, and the

Professor went on by explaining in a kindly way:--

 

"Young miss is bad, very bad. She wants blood, and blood she must have

or die. My friend John and I have consulted; and we are about to perform

what we call transfusion of blood--to transfer from full veins of one to

the empty veins which pine for him. John was to give his blood, as he is

the more young and strong than me"--here Arthur took my hand and wrung

it hard in silence--"but, now you are here, you are more good than us,

old or young, who toil much in the world of thought. Our nerves are not

so calm and our blood not so bright than yours!" Arthur turned to him

and said:--

 

"If you only knew how gladly I would die for her you would

understand----"

 

He stopped, with a sort of choke in his voice.

 

"Good boy!" said Van Helsing. "In the not-so-far-off you will be happy

that you have done all for her you love. Come now and be silent. You

shall kiss her once before it is done, but then you must go; and you

must leave at my sign. Say no word to Madame; you know how it is with

her! There must be no shock; any knowledge of this would be one. Come!"

 

We all went up to Lucy's room. Arthur by direction remained outside.

Lucy turned her head and looked at us, but said nothing. She was not

asleep, but she was simply too weak to make the effort. Her eyes spoke

to us; that was all. Van Helsing took some things from his bag and laid

them on a little table out of sight. Then he mixed a narcotic, and

coming over to the bed, said cheerily:--

 

"Now, little miss, here is your medicine. Drink it off, like a good

child. See, I lift you so that to swallow is easy. Yes." She had made

the effort with success.

 

It astonished me how long the drug took to act. This, in fact, marked

the extent of her weakness. The time seemed endless until sleep began to

flicker in her eyelids. At last, however, the narcotic began to manifest

its potency; and she fell into a deep sleep. When the Professor was

satisfied he called Arthur into the room, and bade him strip off his

coat. Then he added: "You may take that one little kiss whiles I bring

over the table. Friend John, help to me!" So neither of us looked whilst

he bent over her.

 

Van Helsing turning to me, said:

 

"He is so young and strong and of blood so pure that we need not

defibrinate it."

 

Then with swiftness, but with absolute method, Van Helsing performed the

operation. As the transfusion went on something like life seemed to come

back to poor Lucy's cheeks, and through Arthur's growing pallor the joy

of his face seemed absolutely to shine. After a bit I began to grow

anxious, for the loss of blood was telling on Arthur, strong man as he

was. It gave me an idea of what a terrible strain Lucy's system must

have undergone that what weakened Arthur only partially restored her.

But the Professor's face was set, and he stood watch in hand and with

his eyes fixed now on the patient and now on Arthur. I could hear my own

heart beat. Presently he said in a soft voice: "Do not stir an instant.

It is enough. You attend him; I will look to her." When all was over I

could see how much Arthur was weakened. I dressed the wound and took his

arm to bring him away, when Van Helsing spoke without turning round--the

man seems to have eyes in the back of his head:--

 

"The brave lover, I think, deserve another kiss, which he shall have

presently." And as he had now finished his operation, he adjusted the

pillow to the patient's head. As he did so the narrow black velvet band

which she seems always to wear round her throat, buckled with an old

diamond buckle which her lover had given her, was dragged a little up,

and showed a red mark on her throat. Arthur did not notice it, but I

could hear the deep hiss of indrawn breath which is one of Van Helsing's

ways of betraying emotion. He said nothing at the moment, but turned to

me, saying: "Now take down our brave young lover, give him of the port

wine, and let him lie down a while. He must then go home and rest, sleep

much and eat much, that he may be recruited of what he has so given to

his love. He must not stay here. Hold! a moment. I may take it, sir,

that you are anxious of result. Then bring it with you that in all ways

the operation is successful. You have saved her life this time, and you

can go home and rest easy in mind that all that can be is. I shall tell

her all when she is well; she shall love you none the less for what you

have done. Good-bye."

 

When Arthur had gone I went back to the room. Lucy was sleeping gently,

but her breathing was stronger; I could see the counterpane move as her

breast heaved. By the bedside sat Van Helsing, looking at her intently.

The velvet band again covered the red mark. I asked the Professor in a

whisper:--

 

"What do you make of that mark on her throat?"

 

"What do you make of it?"

 

"I have not examined it yet," I answered, and then and there proceeded

to loose the band. Just over the external jugular vein there were two

punctures, not large, but not wholesome-looking. There was no sign of

disease, but the edges were white and worn-looking, as if by some

trituration. It at once occurred to me that this wound, or whatever it

was, might be the means of that manifest loss of blood; but I abandoned

the idea as soon as formed, for such a thing could not be. The whole bed

would have been drenched to a scarlet with the blood which the girl must

have lost to leave such a pallor as she had before the transfusion.

 

"Well?" said Van Helsing.

 

"Well," said I, "I can make nothing of it." The Professor stood up. "I

must go back to Amsterdam to-night," he said. "There are books and

things there which I want. You must remain here all the night, and you

must not let your sight pass from her."

 

"Shall I have a nurse?" I asked.

 

"We are the best nurses, you and I. You keep watch all night; see that

she is well fed, and that nothing disturbs her. You must not sleep all

the night. Later on we can sleep, you and I. I shall be back as soon as

possible. And then we may begin."

 

"May begin?" I said. "What on earth do you mean?"

 

"We shall see!" he answered, as he hurried out. He came back a moment

later and put his head inside the door and said with warning finger held

up:--

 

"Remember, she is your charge. If you leave her, and harm befall, you

shall not sleep easy hereafter!"

 

 

_Dr. Seward's Diary--continued._

 

_8 September._--I sat up all night with Lucy. The opiate worked itself

off towards dusk, and she waked naturally; she looked a different being

from what she had been before the operation. Her spirits even were good,

and she was full of a happy vivacity, but I could see evidences of the

absolute prostration which she had undergone. When I told Mrs. Westenra

that Dr. Van Helsing had directed that I should sit up with her she

almost pooh-poohed the idea, pointing out her daughter's renewed

strength and excellent spirits. I was firm, however, and made

preparations for my long vigil. When her maid had prepared her for the

night I came in, having in the meantime had supper, and took a seat by

the bedside. She did not in any way make objection, but looked at me

gratefully whenever I caught her eye. After a long spell she seemed

sinking off to sleep, but with an effort seemed to pull herself together

and shook it off. This was repeated several times, with greater effort

and with shorter pauses as the time moved on. It was apparent that she

did not want to sleep, so I tackled the subject at once:--

 

"You do not want to go to sleep?"

 

"No; I am afraid."

 

"Afraid to go to sleep! Why so? It is the boon we all crave for."

 

"Ah, not if you were like me--if sleep was to you a presage of horror!"

 

"A presage of horror! What on earth do you mean?"

 

"I don't know; oh, I don't know. And that is what is so terrible. All

this weakness comes to me in sleep; until I dread the very thought."

 

"But, my dear girl, you may sleep to-night. I am here watching you, and

I can promise that nothing will happen."

 

"Ah, I can trust you!" I seized the opportunity, and said: "I promise

you that if I see any evidence of bad dreams I will wake you at once."

 

"You will? Oh, will you really? How good you are to me. Then I will

sleep!" And almost at the word she gave a deep sigh of relief, and sank

back, asleep.

 

All night long I watched by her. She never stirred, but slept on and on

in a deep, tranquil, life-giving, health-giving sleep. Her lips were

slightly parted, and her breast rose and fell with the regularity of a

pendulum. There was a smile on her face, and it was evident that no bad

dreams had come to disturb her peace of mind.

 

In the early morning her maid came, and I left her in her care and took

myself back home, for I was anxious about many things. I sent a short

wire to Van Helsing and to Arthur, telling them of the excellent result

of the operation. My own work, with its manifold arrears, took me all

day to clear off; it was dark when I was able to inquire about my

zooephagous patient. The report was good; he had been quite quiet for the

past day and night. A telegram came from Van Helsing at Amsterdam whilst

I was at dinner, suggesting that I should be at Hillingham to-night, as

it might be well to be at hand, and stating that he was leaving by the

night mail and would join me early in the morning.

 

* * * * *

 

_9 September_.--I was pretty tired and worn out when I got to

Hillingham. For two nights I had hardly had a wink of sleep, and my

brain was beginning to feel that numbness which marks cerebral

exhaustion. Lucy was up and in cheerful spirits. When she shook hands

with me she looked sharply in my face and said:--

 

"No sitting up to-night for you. You are worn out. I am quite well

again; indeed, I am; and if there is to be any sitting up, it is I who

will sit up with you." I would not argue the point, but went and had my

supper. Lucy came with me, and, enlivened by her charming presence, I

made an excellent meal, and had a couple of glasses of the more than

excellent port. Then Lucy took me upstairs, and showed me a room next

her own, where a cozy fire was burning. "Now," she said, "you must stay

here. I shall leave this door open and my door too. You can lie on the

sofa for I know that nothing would induce any of you doctors to go to

bed whilst there is a patient above the horizon. If I want anything I

shall call out, and you can come to me at once." I could not but

acquiesce, for I was "dog-tired," and could not have sat up had I tried.

So, on her renewing her promise to call me if she should want anything,

I lay on the sofa, and forgot all about everything.

 

 

_Lucy Westenra's Diary._

 

_9 September._--I feel so happy to-night. I have been so miserably weak,

that to be able to think and move about is like feeling sunshine after

a long spell of east wind out of a steel sky. Somehow Arthur feels very,

very close to me. I seem to feel his presence warm about me. I suppose

it is that sickness and weakness are selfish things and turn our inner

eyes and sympathy on ourselves, whilst health and strength give Love

rein, and in thought and feeling he can wander where he wills. I know

where my thoughts are. If Arthur only knew! My dear, my dear, your ears

must tingle as you sleep, as mine do waking. Oh, the blissful rest of

last night! How I slept, with that dear, good Dr. Seward watching me.

And to-night I shall not fear to sleep, since he is close at hand and

within call. Thank everybody for being so good to me! Thank God!

Good-night, Arthur.

 

 

_Dr. Seward's Diary._

 

_10 September._--I was conscious of the Professor's hand on my head, and

started awake all in a second. That is one of the things that we learn

in an asylum, at any rate.

 

"And how is our patient?"

 

"Well, when I left her, or rather when she left me," I answered.

 

"Come, let us see," he said. And together we went into the room.

 

The blind was down, and I went over to raise it gently, whilst Van

Helsing stepped, with his soft, cat-like tread, over to the bed.

 

As I raised the blind, and the morning sunlight flooded the room, I

heard the Professor's low hiss of inspiration, and knowing its rarity, a

deadly fear shot through my heart. As I passed over he moved back, and

his exclamation of horror, "Gott in Himmel!" needed no enforcement from

his agonised face. He raised his hand and pointed to the bed, and his

iron face was drawn and ashen white. I felt my knees begin to tremble.

 

There on the bed, seemingly in a swoon, lay poor Lucy, more horribly

white and wan-looking than ever. Even the lips were white, and the gums

seemed to have shrunken back from the teeth, as we sometimes see in a

corpse after a prolonged illness. Van Helsing raised his foot to stamp

in anger, but the instinct of his life and all the long years of habit

stood to him, and he put it down again softly. "Quick!" he said. "Bring

the brandy." I flew to the dining-room, and returned with the decanter.

He wetted the poor white lips with it, and together we rubbed palm and

wrist and heart. He felt her heart, and after a few moments of agonising

suspense said:--

 

"It is not too late. It beats, though but feebly. All our work is

undone; we must begin again. There is no young Arthur here now; I have