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_Later._--After lunch Harker and his wife went back to their own room,
and as I passed a while ago I heard the click of the typewriter. They
are hard at it. Mrs. Harker says that they are knitting together in
chronological order every scrap of evidence they have. Harker has got
the letters between the consignee of the boxes at Whitby and the
carriers in London who took charge of them. He is now reading his wife's
typescript of my diary. I wonder what they make out of it. Here it
is....
Strange that it never struck me that the very next house might be
the Count's hiding-place! Goodness knows that we had enough clues
from the conduct of the patient Renfield! The bundle of letters
relating to the purchase of the house were with the typescript. Oh,
if we had only had them earlier we might have saved poor Lucy!
Stop; that way madness lies! Harker has gone back, and is again
collating his material. He says that by dinner-time they will be
able to show a whole connected narrative. He thinks that in the
meantime I should see Renfield, as hitherto he has been a sort of
index to the coming and going of the Count. I hardly see this yet,
but when I get at the dates I suppose I shall. What a good thing
that Mrs. Harker put my cylinders into type! We never could have
found the dates otherwise....
I found Renfield sitting placidly in his room with his hands
folded, smiling benignly. At the moment he seemed as sane as any
one I ever saw. I sat down and talked with him on a lot of
subjects, all of which he treated naturally. He then, of his own
accord, spoke of going home, a subject he has never mentioned to my
knowledge during his sojourn here. In fact, he spoke quite
confidently of getting his discharge at once. I believe that, had I
not had the chat with Harker and read the letters and the dates of
his outbursts, I should have been prepared to sign for him after a
brief time of observation. As it is, I am darkly suspicious. All
those outbreaks were in some way linked with the proximity of the
Count. What then does this absolute content mean? Can it be that
his instinct is satisfied as to the vampire's ultimate triumph?
Stay; he is himself zoöphagous, and in his wild ravings outside the
chapel door of the deserted house he always spoke of "master." This
all seems confirmation of our idea. However, after a while I came
away; my friend is just a little too sane at present to make it
safe to probe him too deep with questions. He might begin to think,
and then--! So I came away. I mistrust these quiet moods of his; so
I have given the attendant a hint to look closely after him, and to
have a strait-waistcoat ready in case of need.
_Jonathan Harker's Journal._
_29 September, in train to London._--When I received Mr. Billington's
courteous message that he would give me any information in his power I
thought it best to go down to Whitby and make, on the spot, such
inquiries as I wanted. It was now my object to trace that horrid cargo
of the Count's to its place in London. Later, we may be able to deal
with it. Billington junior, a nice lad, met me at the station, and
brought me to his father's house, where they had decided that I must
stay the night. They are hospitable, with true Yorkshire hospitality:
give a guest everything, and leave him free to do as he likes. They all
knew that I was busy, and that my stay was short, and Mr. Billington had
ready in his office all the papers concerning the consignment of boxes.
It gave me almost a turn to see again one of the letters which I had
seen on the Count's table before I knew of his diabolical plans.
Everything had been carefully thought out, and done systematically and
with precision. He seemed to have been prepared for every obstacle which
might be placed by accident in the way of his intentions being carried
out. To use an Americanism, he had "taken no chances," and the absolute
accuracy with which his instructions were fulfilled, was simply the
logical result of his care. I saw the invoice, and took note of it:
"Fifty cases of common earth, to be used for experimental purposes."
Also the copy of letter to Carter Paterson, and their reply; of both of
these I got copies. This was all the information Mr. Billington could
give me, so I went down to the port and saw the coastguards, the Customs
officers and the harbour-master. They had all something to say of the
strange entry of the ship, which is already taking its place in local
tradition; but no one could add to the simple description "Fifty cases
of common earth." I then saw the station-master, who kindly put me in
communication with the men who had actually received the boxes. Their
tally was exact with the list, and they had nothing to add except that
the boxes were "main and mortal heavy," and that shifting them was dry
work. One of them added that it was hard lines that there wasn't any
gentleman "such-like as yourself, squire," to show some sort of
appreciation of their efforts in a liquid form; another put in a rider
that the thirst then generated was such that even the time which had
elapsed had not completely allayed it. Needless to add, I took care
before leaving to lift, for ever and adequately, this source of
reproach.
* * * * *
_30 September._--The station-master was good enough to give me a line to
his old companion the station-master at King's Cross, so that when I
arrived there in the morning I was able to ask him about the arrival of
the boxes. He, too, put me at once in communication with the proper
officials, and I saw that their tally was correct with the original
invoice. The opportunities of acquiring an abnormal thirst had been here
limited; a noble use of them had, however, been made, and again I was
compelled to deal with the result in an _ex post facto_ manner.
From thence I went on to Carter Paterson's central office, where I met
with the utmost courtesy. They looked up the transaction in their