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Seven years ago we all went through the flames; and the happiness of |
some of us since then is, we think, well worth the pain we endured. It |
is an added joy to Mina and to me that our boy's birthday is the same |
day as that on which Quincey Morris died. His mother holds, I know, the |
secret belief that some of our brave friend's spirit has passed into |
him. His bundle of names links all our little band of men together; but |
we call him Quincey. |
In the summer of this year we made a journey to Transylvania, and went |
over the old ground which was, and is, to us so full of vivid and |
terrible memories. It was almost impossible to believe that the things |
which we had seen with our own eyes and heard with our own ears were |
living truths. Every trace of all that had been was blotted out. The |
castle stood as before, reared high above a waste of desolation. |
When we got home we were talking of the old time--which we could all |
look back on without despair, for Godalming and Seward are both happily |
married. I took the papers from the safe where they had been ever since |
our return so long ago. We were struck with the fact, that in all the |
mass of material of which the record is composed, there is hardly one |
authentic document; nothing but a mass of typewriting, except the later |
note-books of Mina and Seward and myself, and Van Helsing's memorandum. |
We could hardly ask any one, even did we wish to, to accept these as |
proofs of so wild a story. Van Helsing summed it all up as he said, with |
our boy on his knee:-- |
"We want no proofs; we ask none to believe us! This boy will some day |
know what a brave and gallant woman his mother is. Already he knows her |
sweetness and loving care; later on he will understand how some men so |
loved her, that they did dare much for her sake." |
JONATHAN HARKER. |
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