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Sincerity! It seems like a profanation of the word to write it in
connection with such a monster, so asked him point-blank:--
"Why may I not go to-night?"
"Because, dear sir, my coachman and horses are away on a mission."
"But I would walk with pleasure. I want to get away at once." He smiled,
such a soft, smooth, diabolical smile that I knew there was some trick
behind his smoothness. He said:--
"And your baggage?"
"I do not care about it. I can send for it some other time."
The Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesy which made me rub my
eyes, it seemed so real:--
"You English have a saying which is close to my heart, for its spirit is
that which rules our _boyars_: 'Welcome the coming; speed the parting
guest.' Come with me, my dear young friend. Not an hour shall you wait
in my house against your will, though sad am I at your going, and that
you so suddenly desire it. Come!" With a stately gravity, he, with the
lamp, preceded me down the stairs and along the hall. Suddenly he
stopped.
"Hark!"
Close at hand came the howling of many wolves. It was almost as if the
sound sprang up at the rising of his hand, just as the music of a great
orchestra seems to leap under the bâton of the conductor. After a pause
of a moment, he proceeded, in his stately way, to the door, drew back
the ponderous bolts, unhooked the heavy chains, and began to draw it
open.
To my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlocked. Suspiciously, I
looked all round, but could see no key of any kind.
As the door began to open, the howling of the wolves without grew louder
and angrier; their red jaws, with champing teeth, and their blunt-clawed
feet as they leaped, came in through the opening door. I knew then that
to struggle at the moment against the Count was useless. With such
allies as these at his command, I could do nothing. But still the door
continued slowly to open, and only the Count's body stood in the gap.
Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my
doom; I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigation. There
was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and
as a last chance I cried out:--
"Shut the door; I shall wait till morning!" and covered my face with my
hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment. With one sweep of his
powerful arm, the Count threw the door shut, and the great bolts clanged
and echoed through the hall as they shot back into their places.
In silence we returned to the library, and after a minute or two I went
to my own room. The last I saw of Count Dracula was his kissing his hand
to me; with a red light of triumph in his eyes, and with a smile that
Judas in hell might be proud of.
When I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard a
whispering at my door. I went to it softly and listened. Unless my ears
deceived me, I heard the voice of the Count:--
"Back, back, to your own place! Your time is not yet come. Wait! Have
patience! To-night is mine. To-morrow night is yours!" There was a low,
sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw open the door, and saw
without the three terrible women licking their lips. As I appeared they
all joined in a horrible laugh, and ran away.
I came back to my room and threw myself on my knees. It is then so near
the end? To-morrow! to-morrow! Lord, help me, and those to whom I am
dear!
* * * * *
_30 June, morning._--These may be the last words I ever write in this
diary. I slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself
on my knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me
ready.
At last I felt that subtle change in the air, and knew that the morning
had come. Then came the welcome cock-crow, and I felt that I was safe.
With a glad heart, I opened my door and ran down to the hall. I had seen
that the door was unlocked, and now escape was before me. With hands
that trembled with eagerness, I unhooked the chains and drew back the
massive bolts.
But the door would not move. Despair seized me. I pulled, and pulled, at
the door, and shook it till, massive as it was, it rattled in its
casement. I could see the bolt shot. It had been locked after I left the
Count.
Then a wild desire took me to obtain that key at any risk, and I
determined then and there to scale the wall again and gain the Count's
room. He might kill me, but death now seemed the happier choice of
evils. Without a pause I rushed up to the east window, and scrambled
down the wall, as before, into the Count's room. It was empty, but that
was as I expected. I could not see a key anywhere, but the heap of gold
remained. I went through the door in the corner and down the winding
stair and along the dark passage to the old chapel. I knew now well