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Attila, whose blood is in these veins?" He held up his arms. "Is it a
wonder that we were a conquering race; that we were proud; that when the
Magyar, the Lombard, the Avar, the Bulgar, or the Turk poured his
thousands on our frontiers, we drove them back? Is it strange that when
Arpad and his legions swept through the Hungarian fatherland he found us
here when he reached the frontier; that the Honfoglalas was completed
there? And when the Hungarian flood swept eastward, the Szekelys were
claimed as kindred by the victorious Magyars, and to us for centuries
was trusted the guarding of the frontier of Turkey-land; ay, and more
than that, endless duty of the frontier guard, for, as the Turks say,
'water sleeps, and enemy is sleepless.' Who more gladly than we
throughout the Four Nations received the 'bloody sword,' or at its
warlike call flocked quicker to the standard of the King? When was
redeemed that great shame of my nation, the shame of Cassova, when the
flags of the Wallach and the Magyar went down beneath the Crescent? Who
was it but one of my own race who as Voivode crossed the Danube and beat
the Turk on his own ground? This was a Dracula indeed! Woe was it that
his own unworthy brother, when he had fallen, sold his people to the
Turk and brought the shame of slavery on them! Was it not this Dracula,
indeed, who inspired that other of his race who in a later age again and
again brought his forces over the great river into Turkey-land; who,
when he was beaten back, came again, and again, and again, though he had
to come alone from the bloody field where his troops were being
slaughtered, since he knew that he alone could ultimately triumph! They
said that he thought only of himself. Bah! what good are peasants
without a leader? Where ends the war without a brain and heart to
conduct it? Again, when, after the battle of Mohács, we threw off the
Hungarian yoke, we of the Dracula blood were amongst their leaders, for
our spirit would not brook that we were not free. Ah, young sir, the
Szekelys--and the Dracula as their heart's blood, their brains, and
their swords--can boast a record that mushroom growths like the
Hapsburgs and the Romanoffs can never reach. The warlike days are over.
Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace; and
the glories of the great races are as a tale that is told."
It was by this time close on morning, and we went to bed. (_Mem._, this
diary seems horribly like the beginning of the "Arabian Nights," for
everything has to break off at cockcrow--or like the ghost of Hamlet's
father.)
* * * * *
_12 May._--Let me begin with facts--bare, meagre facts, verified by
books and figures, and of which there can be no doubt. I must not
confuse them with experiences which will have to rest on my own
observation, or my memory of them. Last evening when the Count came from
his room he began by asking me questions on legal matters and on the
doing of certain kinds of business. I had spent the day wearily over
books, and, simply to keep my mind occupied, went over some of the
matters I had been examined in at Lincoln's Inn. There was a certain
method in the Count's inquiries, so I shall try to put them down in
sequence; the knowledge may somehow or some time be useful to me.
First, he asked if a man in England might have two solicitors or more. I
told him he might have a dozen if he wished, but that it would not be
wise to have more than one solicitor engaged in one transaction, as only
one could act at a time, and that to change would be certain to militate
against his interest. He seemed thoroughly to understand, and went on to
ask if there would be any practical difficulty in having one man to
attend, say, to banking, and another to look after shipping, in case
local help were needed in a place far from the home of the banking
solicitor. I asked him to explain more fully, so that I might not by any
chance mislead him, so he said:--
"I shall illustrate. Your friend and mine, Mr. Peter Hawkins, from under
the shadow of your beautiful cathedral at Exeter, which is far from
London, buys for me through your good self my place at London. Good! Now
here let me say frankly, lest you should think it strange that I have
sought the services of one so far off from London instead of some one
resident there, that my motive was that no local interest might be
served save my wish only; and as one of London residence might, perhaps,
have some purpose of himself or friend to serve, I went thus afield to
seek my agent, whose labours should be only to my interest. Now, suppose
I, who have much of affairs, wish to ship goods, say, to Newcastle, or
Durham, or Harwich, or Dover, might it not be that it could with more
ease be done by consigning to one in these ports?" I answered that
certainly it would be most easy, but that we solicitors had a system of
agency one for the other, so that local work could be done locally on
instruction from any solicitor, so that the client, simply placing
himself in the hands of one man, could have his wishes carried out by
him without further trouble.
"But," said he, "I could be at liberty to direct myself. Is it not so?"
"Of course," I replied; and "such is often done by men of business, who
do not like the whole of their affairs to be known by any one person."
"Good!" he said, and then went on to ask about the means of making
consignments and the forms to be gone through, and of all sorts of
difficulties which might arise, but by forethought could be guarded
against. I explained all these things to him to the best of my ability,
and he certainly left me under the impression that he would have made a
wonderful solicitor, for there was nothing that he did not think of or
foresee. For a man who was never in the country, and who did not
evidently do much in the way of business, his knowledge and acumen were
wonderful. When he had satisfied himself on these points of which he had
spoken, and I had verified all as well as I could by the books
available, he suddenly stood up and said:--
"Have you written since your first letter to our friend Mr. Peter