CHAPTER XX.
/Jonathan Harker's Journal./
_1 October, evening._--I found Thomas Snelling in his house at BethnalGreen, but unhappily he was not in a condition to remember anything.The very prospect of beer which my expected coming had opened tohim had proved too much, and he had begun too early on his expecteddebauch. I learned, however, from his wife, who seemed a decent, poorsoul, that he was only the assistant to Smollet, who of the two mateswas the responsible person. So off I drove to Walworth, and found Mr.Joseph Smollet at home and in his shirt-sleeves, taking a late tea outof a saucer. He is a decent, intelligent fellow, distinctly a good,reliable type of workman, and with a headpiece of his own. He rememberedall about the incident of the boxes, and from a wonderful dog's-earednotebook, which he produced from some mysterious receptacle about theseat of his trousers, and which had hieroglyphical entries in thick,half-obliterated pencil, he gave me the destinations of the boxes.There were, he said, six in the cartload which he took from Carfax andleft at 197 Chicksand Street, Mile End New Town, and another six whichhe deposited at Jamaica Lane, Bermondsey. If then the Count meant toscatter these ghastly refuges of his over London, these places werechosen at the first of delivery, so that later he might distribute morefully. The systematic manner in which this was done made me think thathe could not mean to confine himself to two sides of London. He was nowfixed on the far east of the northern shore, on the east of the southernshore, and on the south. The north and west were surely never meant tobe left out of his diabolical scheme--let alone the City itself and thevery heart of fashionable London in the south-west and west. I went backto Smollet and asked him if he could tell us if any other boxes had beentaken from Carfax.
He replied:--
"Well, guv'nor, you've treated me wery 'an'some"--I had given him halfa sovereign--"an' I'll tell yer all I know. I heeard a man by the nameof Bloxam say four nights ago in the 'Are an' 'Ounds, in Pincher'sAlley, as 'ow he an' his mate 'ad 'ad a rare dusty job in a old 'ouse atPurfleet. There ain't a-many such jobs as this 'ere, an' I'm thinkin'that maybe Sam Bloxam could tell ye summut." I asked if he could tellme where to find him. I told him that if he could get me the address itwould be worth another half-sovereign to him. So he gulped down the restof his tea and stood up, saying that he was going to begin the searchthen and there. At the door he stopped, and said:--
"Look, 'ere, guv'nor, there ain't no sense in me a-keepin' you 'ere. Imay find Sam soon, or I mayn't; but anyhow he ain't like to be in a wayto tell ye much to-night. Sam is a rare one when he starts on the booze.If you can give me a envelope with a stamp on it, and put yer address onit, I'll find out where Sam is to be found and post it ye to-night. Butye'd better be up arter 'im soon in the mornin', or maybe ye won't ketch'im; for Sam gets off main early, never mind the booze the night afore."
This was all practical, so one of the children went off with a pennyto buy an envelope and a sheet of paper, and to keep the change. Whenshe came back I addressed the envelope and stamped it, and when Smollethad again faithfully promised to post the address when found, I took myway to home. We're on the track anyhow. I am tired to-night, and wantsleep. Mina is fast asleep, and looks a little too pale; her eyes lookas though she had been crying. Poor dear, I've no doubt it frets her tobe kept in the dark, and it may make her doubly anxious about me and theothers. But it is best as it is. It is better to be disappointed andworried in such a way now than to have her nerve broken. The doctorswere quite right to insist on her being kept out of this dreadfulbusiness. I must be firm, for on me this particular burden of silencemust rest. I shall not ever enter on the subject with her under anycircumstances. Indeed, it may not be a hard task, after all, sheherself has become reticent on the subject, and has not spoken of theCount or his doings ever since we told her of our decision.
_2 October, evening._--A long and trying and exciting day. By the firstpost I got my directed envelope with a dirty scrap of paper enclosed, onwhich was written with a carpenter's pencil in a sprawling hand:--
"Sam Bloxam, Korkrans, 4, Poters Cort, Bartel Street, Walworth. Arsk forthe depite."
I got the letter in bed, and rose without waking Mina. She looked heavyand sleepy and pale, and far from well. I determined not to wake her,but that, when I should return from this new search, I would arrange forher going back to Exeter. I think she would be happier in our own home,with her daily tasks to interest her, than in being here amongst us andin ignorance. I only saw Dr. Seward for a moment, and told him whereI was off to, promising to come back and tell the rest so soon as Ishould have found out anything. I drove to Walworth and found, with somedifficulty, Potter's Court. Mr. Smollet's spelling misled me, as I askedfor Poter's Court instead of Potter's Court. However, when I had foundthe court I had no difficulty in discovering Corcoran's lodging-house.When I asked the man who came to the door for the "depite," he shook hishead, and said: "I dunno 'im. There ain't no such person 'ere; I never'eard of 'im in all my bloomin' days. Don't believe there ain't nobodyof that kind livin' 'ere or anywheres." I took out Smollet's letter, andas I read it it seemed to me that the lesson of the spelling of the nameof the court might guide me. "What are you?" I asked.
"I'm the depity," he answered. I saw at once that I was on the righttrack; phonetic spelling had again misled me. A half-crown tip putthe deputy's knowledge at my disposal, and I learned that Mr. Bloxam,who had slept off the remains of his beer on the previous night atCorcoran's, had left for his work at Poplar at five o'clock thatmorning. He could not tell me where the place of work was situated, buthe had a vague idea that it was some kind of a "new-fangled ware'us;"and with this slender clue I had to start for Poplar. It was twelveo'clock before I got any satisfactory hint of such a building, and thisI got at a coffee-shop, where some workmen were having their dinner.One of these suggested that there was being erected at Cross AngelStreet a new "cold storage" building; and as this suited the conditionof a "new-fangled ware'us," I at once drove to it. An interview with asurly gatekeeper and a surlier foreman, both of whom were appeased withcoin of the realm, put me on the track of Bloxam; he was sent for on mysuggesting that I was willing to pay his day's wages to his foreman forthe privilege of asking him a few questions on a private matter. He wasa smart enough fellow, though rough of speech and bearing. When I hadpromised to pay for his information and given him an earnest, he told methat he had made two journeys between Carfax and a house in Piccadilly,and had taken from this house to the latter nine great boxes--"mainheavy ones"--with a horse and cart hired by him for this purpose. Iasked him if he could tell me the number of the house in Piccadilly, towhich he replied:--
"Well, guv'nor, I forgits the number, but it was only a few doors froma big white church or somethink of the kind, not long built. It was adusty old 'ouse, too, though nothin' to the dustiness of the 'ouse wetooked the bloomin' boxes from."
"How did you get into the house if they were both empty?"
"There was the old party what engaged me a-waitin' in the 'ouse atPurfleet. He 'elped me to lift the boxes and put them in the dray. Curseme, but he was the strongest chap I ever struck, an' him a old feller,with a white moustache, one that thin you would think he couldn't throwa shadder."
How this phrase thrilled through me!
"Why, 'e took up 'is end o' the boxes like they was pounds of tea, andme a-puffin' an' a-blowin' afore I could up-end mine anyhow--an' I'm nochicken, neither."
"How did you get into the house in Piccadilly?" I asked.
"He was there too. He must 'a' started off and got there afore me, forwhen I rung of the bell he kem an' opened the door 'isself an' 'elped meto carry the boxes into the 'all."
"The whole nine?" I asked.
"Yus; there was five in the first load an' four in the second. Itwas main dry work, an' I don't so well remember 'ow I got 'ome." Iinterrupted him:--
"Were the boxes left in the hall?"
"Yus; it was a big 'all, an' there was nothin' else in it." I made onemore attempt to further matters:--
"You didn't have any key?"
"Never used no key nor nothink. The old gent, he opened the door 'isselfan' shut it again when I druv off. I don't remember the last time--butthat was the beer."
"And you can't remember the number of the house?"
"No, sir. But ye needn't have no difficulty about that. It's a 'igh 'unwith a stone front with a bow on it, and 'igh steps up to the door. Iknow them steps, 'avin' 'ad to carry the boxes up with three loaferswhat come round to earn a copper. The old gent give them shillin's, an'they seem' they got so much, they wanted more; but 'e took one of themby the shoulder and was like to throw 'im down the steps, till the lotof them went away cussin'." I thought that with this description I couldfind the house, so having paid my friend for his information, I startedoff for Piccadilly. I had gained a new painful experience: the Countcould, it was evident, handle the earth-boxes himself. If so, time wasprecious; for, now he had achieved a certain amount of distribution,he could, by choosing his own time, complete the task unobserved. AtPiccadilly Circus I discharged my cab, and walked westward; beyondthe Junior Constitutional I came across the house described, and wassatisfied that this was the next of the lairs arranged by Dracula. Thehouse looked as though it had been long untenanted. The windows wereencrusted with dust, and the shutters were up. All the framework wasblack with time, and from the iron the paint had mostly scaled away.It was evident that up to lately there had been a large notice-boardin front of the balcony; it had, however, been roughly torn away, theuprights which had supported it still remaining. Behind the rails ofthe balcony I saw there were some loose boards, whose raw edges lookedwhite. I would have given a good deal to have been able to see thenotice-board intact, as it would, perhaps, have given some clue to theownership of the house. I remembered my experience of the investigationand purchase of Carfax, and I could not but feel that if I could findthe former owner there might be some means of gaining access to thehouse.
There was at present nothing to be learned from the Piccadilly side,and nothing could be done; so I went round to the back to see ifanything could be gathered from this quarter. The mews were active,the Piccadilly houses being mostly in occupation. I asked one or twoof the grooms and helpers whom I saw around if they could tell meanything about the empty house. One of them said he had heard it hadlately been taken, but he couldn't say from whom. He told me, however,that up to very lately there had been a notice-board of "For sale" up,and that perhaps Mitchell, Sons & Candy, the house agents, could tellme something, as he thought he remembered seeing the name of that firmon the board. I did not wish to seem too eager, or to let my informantknow or guess too much, so, thanking him in the usual manner, I strolledaway. It was now growing dusk, and the autumn night was closing in, soI did not lose any time. Having learned the address of Mitchell, Sons &Candy from a directory at the Berkeley, I was soon at their office inSackville Street.
The gentleman who saw me was particularly suave in manner, butuncommunicative in equal proportion. Having once told me thatthe Piccadilly house--which throughout our interview he called a"mansion"--was sold, he considered my business as concluded. When Iasked who had purchased it, he opened his eyes a thought wider, andpaused a few seconds before replying:--
"It is sold, sir."
"Pardon me," I said, with equal politeness, "but I have a special reasonfor wishing to know who purchased it."
Again he paused longer, and raised his eyebrows still more. "It is sold,sir," was again his laconic reply.
"Surely," I said, "you do not mind letting me know so much."
"But I do mind," he answered. "The affairs of their clients areabsolutely safe in the hands of Mitchell, Sons & Candy." This wasmanifestly a prig of the first water, and there was no use arguing withhim. I thought I had best meet him on his own ground, so I said:--
"Your clients, sir, are happy in having so resolute a guardian of theirconfidence. I am myself a professional man." Here I handed him my card."In this instance I am not prompted by curiosity; I act on the part ofLord Godalming, who wishes to know something of the property which was,he understood, lately for sale." These words put a different complexionon affairs. He said:--
"I would like to oblige you if I could, Mr. Harker, and especiallywould I like to oblige his lordship. We once carried out a small matterof renting some chambers for him when he was the Honourable ArthurHolmwood. If you will let me have his lordship's address I will consultthe House on the subject, and will, in any case, communicate with hislordship by to-night's post. It will be a pleasure if we can so fardeviate from our rules as to give the required information to hislordship."
I wanted to secure a friend, and not to make an enemy, so I thanked him,gave the address at Dr. Seward's, and came away. It was now dark, and Iwas tired and hungry. I got a cup of tea at the Aerated Bread Companyand came down to Purfleet by the next train.
I found all the others at home. Mina was looking tired and pale, butshe made a gallant effort to be bright and cheerful; it wrung my heartto think that I had had to keep anything from her and so caused herinquietude. Thank God, this will be the last night of her lookingon at our conferences, and feeling the sting of our not showing ourconfidence. It took all my courage to hold to the wise resolution ofkeeping her out of our grim task. She seems somehow more reconciled; orelse the very subject seems to have become repugnant to her, for whenany accidental allusion is made she actually shudders. I am glad we madeour resolution in time, as with such a feeling as this, our growingknowledge would be torture to her.
I could not tell the others of the day's discovery till we were alone;so after dinner--followed by a little music to save appearances evenamongst ourselves--I took Mina to her room and left her to go to bed.The dear girl was more affectionate with me than ever, and clung tome as though she would detain me; but there was much to be talked ofand I came away. Thank God, the ceasing of telling things has made nodifference between us.
When I came down again I found the others all gathered round the fire inthe study. In the train I had written my diary so far, and simply readit off to them as the best means of letting them get abreast of my owninformation; when I had finished Van Helsing said:--
"This has been a great day's work, friend Jonathan. Doubtless we are onthe track of the missing boxes. If we find them all in that house, thenour work is near the end. But if there be some missing, we must searchuntil we find them. Then shall we make our final _coup_, and hunt thewretch to his real death." We all sat silent awhile, and all at once Mr.Morris spoke:--
"Say! how are we going to get into that house?"
"We got into the other," answered Lord Godalming quickly.
"But, Art, this is different. We broke house at Carfax, but we had nightand a walled park to protect us. It will be a mighty different thingto commit burglary in Piccadilly, either by day or night. I confess Idon't see how we are going to get in unless that agency duck can findus a key of some sort; perhaps we shall know when you get his letter inthe morning." Lord Godalming's brows contracted, and he stood up andwalked about the room. By-and-by he stopped and said, turning from oneto another of us:--
"Quincey's head is level. This burglary business is getting serious; wegot off once all right; but we have now a rare job on hand--unless wecan find the Count's key basket."
As nothing could well be done before morning, and as it would be atleast advisable to wait till Lord Godalming should hear from Mitchell's,we decided not to take any active step before breakfast time. For a goodwhile we sat and smoked, discussing the matter in its various lights andbearings; I took the opportunity of bringing this diary right up to themoment. I am very sleepy and shall go to bed....
Just a line. Mina sleeps soundly and her breathing is regular. Herforehead is puckered up into little wrinkles, as though she thinks evenin her sleep. She is still too pale, but does not look so haggard as shedid this morning. To-morrow will, I hope, mend all this; she will beherself at home in Exeter. Oh, but I am sleepy!
_Dr. Seward's Diary._
_1 October._--I am puzzled afresh about Renfield. His moods change sorapidly that I find it difficult to keep touch of them, and as theyalways mean something more than his own well-being, they form a morethan interesting study. This morning, when I went to see him afterhis repulse of Van Helsing, his manner was that of a man commandingdestiny. He was, in fact, commanding destiny--subjectively. He did notreally care for any of the things of mere earth; he was in the cloudsand looked down on all the weaknesses and wants of us poor mortals. Ithought I would improve the occasion and learn something, so I askedhim:--
"What about the flies these times?" He smiled on me in quite a superiorsort of way--such a smile as would have become the face of Malvolio--ashe answered me:--
"The fly, my dear sir, has one striking feature: its wings are typicalof the aerial powers of the psychic faculties. The ancients did wellwhen they typified the soul as a butterfly!"
I thought I would push his analogy to its utmost logically, so I saidquickly:--
"Oh, it is a soul you are after now, is it?" His madness foiled hisreason, and a puzzled look spread over his face as, shaking his headwith a decision which I had but seldom seen in him, he said:--
"Oh no, oh no! I want no souls. Life is all I want." Here he brightenedup: "I am pretty indifferent about it at present. Life is all right;I have all I want. You must get a new patient, doctor, if you wish tostudy zoophagy!"
This puzzled me a little, so I drew him on:--
"Then you command life; you are a god, I suppose?" He smiled with anineffably benign superiority.
"Oh no! Far be it from me to arrogate to myself the attributes of theDeity. I am not even concerned in His especially spiritual doings. IfI may state my intellectual position I am, so far as concerns thingspurely terrestrial, somewhat in the position which Enoch occupiedspiritually!" This was a poser to me. I could not at the moment recallEnoch's appositeness; so I had to ask a simple question, though I feltthat by doing so I was lowering myself in the eyes of the lunatic:--
"And why Enoch?"
"Because he walked with God." I could not see the analogy, but did notlike to admit it; so I harked back to what he had denied:--
"So you don't care about life and you don't want souls. Why not?" I putmy question quickly and somewhat sternly, on purpose to disconcert him.The effort succeeded; for an instant he unconsciously relapsed into hisold servile manner, bent low before me, and actually fawned upon me ashe replied:--
"I don't want any souls, indeed, indeed! I don't. I couldn't use themif I had them; they would be no manner of use to me. I couldn't eatthem or----" He suddenly stopped and the old cunning look spread overhis face, like a wind-sweep on the surface of the water. "And, Doctor,as to life, what is it after all? When you've got all you require, andyou know that you will never want, that is all. I have friends--goodfriends--like you Doctor Seward;" this was said with a leer ofinexpressible cunning, "I know that I shall never lack the means oflife!"
I think that through the cloudiness of his insanity he saw someantagonism in me, for he at once fell back on the last refuge of such ashe--a dogged silence. After a short time I saw that for the present itwas useless to speak to him. He was sulky, and so I came away.
Later in the day he sent for me. Ordinarily I would not have comewithout special reason, but just at present I am so interested in himthat I would gladly make an effort. Besides, I am glad to have anythingto help to pass the time. Harker is out, following up clues; and so areLord Godalming and Quincey. Van Helsing sits in my study poring overthe record prepared by the Harkers; he seems to think that by accurateknowledge of all details he will light upon some clue. He does not wishto be disturbed in the work, without cause. I would have taken him withme to see the patient, only I thought that after his last repulse hemight not care to go again. There was also another reason: Renfieldmight not speak so freely before a third person as when he and I werealone.
I found him sitting out in the middle of the floor on his stool, a posewhich is generally indicative of some mental energy on his part. When Icame in, he said at once, as though the question had been waiting on hislips:--
"What about souls?" It was evident then that my surmise had beencorrect. Unconscious cerebration was doing its work, even withthe lunatic. I determined to have the matter out. "What about themyourself?" I asked. He did not reply for a moment but looked all roundhim, and up and down, as though he expected to find some inspiration foran answer.
"I don't want any souls!" he said in a feeble, apologetic way. Thematter seemed preying on his mind, and so I determined to use it--to "becruel only to be kind." So I said:--
"You like life, and you want life?"
"Oh yes! but that is all right; you needn't worry about that!"
"But," I asked, "how are we to get the life without getting the soulalso?" This seemed to puzzle him, so I followed it up:--
"A nice time you'll have some time when you're flying out there, withthe souls of thousands of flies and spiders and birds and cats buzzingand twittering and miauing all round you. You've got their lives, youknow, and you must put up with their souls!" Something seemed to affecthis imagination, for he put his fingers to his ears and shut his eyes,screwing them up tightly just as a small boy does when his face is beingsoaped. There was something pathetic in it that touched me; it also gaveme a lesson, for it seemed that before me was a child--only a child,though the features were worn, and the stubble on the jaws was white. Itwas evident that he was undergoing some process of mental disturbance,and, knowing how his past moods had interpreted things seemingly foreignto himself, I thought I would enter into his mind as well as I could andgo with him. The first step was to restore confidence, so I asked him,speaking pretty loud so that he would hear me through his closed ears:--
"Would you like some sugar to get your flies round again!" He seemed towake up all at once, and shook his head. With a laugh he replied:--
"Not much! flies are poor things, after all!" After a pause he added,"But I don't want their souls buzzing round me, all the same."
"Or spiders," I went on.
"Blow spiders! What's the use of spiders? There isn't anything in themto eat or"--he stopped suddenly, as though reminded of a forbiddentopic.
"So, so!" I thought to myself, "this is the second time he has suddenlystopped at the word 'drink'; what does it mean?" Renfield seemed himselfaware of having made a lapse, for he hurried on, as though to distractmy attention from it:--
"I don't take any stock at all in such matters. 'Rats and mice and suchsmall deer' as Shakespeare has it; 'chicken-feed of the larder' theymight be called. I'm past all that sort of nonsense. You might as wellask a man to eat molecules with a pair of chop-sticks, as to try tointerest me about the lesser carnivora, when I know of what is beforeme."
"I see," I said. "You want big things that you can make your teeth meetin? How would you like to breakfast on elephant?"
"What ridiculous nonsense you are talking!" He was getting too wideawake, so I thought I would press him hard. "I wonder," I saidreflectively, "what an elephant's soul is like!"
The effect I desired was obtained, for he at once fell from hishigh-horse and became a child again.
"I don't want an elephant's soul, or any soul at all!" he said. For afew moments he sat despondently. Suddenly he jumped to his feet, withhis eyes blazing and all the signs of intense cerebral excitement. "Tohell with you and your souls!" he shouted. "Why do you plague me aboutsouls? Haven't I got enough to worry, and pain, and distract me already,without thinking of souls?" He looked so hostile that I thought hewas in for another homicidal fit, so I blew my whistle. The instant,however, that I did so he became calm, and said apologetically:--
"Forgive me, Doctor; I forgot myself. You do not need any help. I am soworried in my mind that I am apt to be irritable. If you only knew theproblem I have to face, and that I am working out, you would pity, andtolerate, and pardon me. Pray do not put me in a strait-waistcoat. Iwant to think and I cannot think freely when my body is
confined. I amsure you will understand!" He had evidently self-control; so when theattendants came I told them not to mind, and they withdrew. Renfieldwatched them go; when the door was closed he said, with considerabledignity and sweetness:--
"Dr. Seward, you have been very considerate towards me. Believe methat I am very very grateful to you!" I thought it well to leave him inthis mood, and so I came away. There is certainly something to ponderover in this man's state. Several points seem to make what the Americaninterviewer calls "a story," if one could only get them in proper order.Here they are:--
Will not mention "drinking."
Fears the thought of being burdened with the "soul" of anything.
Has no dread of wanting "life" in the future.
Despises the meaner forms of life altogether, though he dreads beinghaunted by their souls.
Logically all these things point one way! he has assurance of some kindthat he will acquire some higher life. He dreads the consequence--theburden of a soul. Then it is a human life he looks to!
And the assurance--?
Merciful God! the Count has been to him, and there is some new scheme ofterror afoot!
_Later._--I went after my round to Van Helsing and told him mysuspicion. He grew very grave; and, after thinking the matter over for awhile asked me to take him to Renfield. I did so. As we came to the doorwe heard the lunatic within singing gaily, as he used to do in the timewhich now seems so long ago. When we entered we saw with amazement thathe had spread out his sugar as of old; the flies, lethargic with theautumn, were beginning to buzz into the room. We tried to make him talkof the subject of our previous conversation, but he would not attend. Hewent on with his singing, just as though we had not been present. He hadgot a scrap of paper and was folding it into a note-book. We had to comeaway as ignorant as we went in.
His is a curious case indeed; we must watch him to-night.
_Letter, Mitchell, Sons and Candy to Lord Godalming_
"_1 October._
"My Lord,
"We are at all times only too happy to meet your wishes. We beg, withregard to the desire of your Lordship, expressed by Mr. Harker on yourbehalf, to supply the following information concerning the sale andpurchase of No. 347, Piccadilly. The original vendors are the executorsof the late Mr. Archibald Winter-Suffield. The purchaser is a foreignnobleman, Count de Ville, who effected the purchase himself paying thepurchase money in notes 'over the counter,' if your Lordship will pardonus using so vulgar an expression. Beyond this we know nothing whateverof him.
"We are, my Lord, "Your Lordship's humble servants, "/Mitchell, Sons & Candy./"
_Dr. Seward's Diary._
_2 October._--I placed a man in the corridor last night, and told him tomake an accurate note of any sound he might hear from Renfield's room,and gave him instructions that if there should be anything strange hewas to call me. After dinner, when we had all gathered round the fire inthe study--Mrs. Harker having gone to bed--we discussed the attempts anddiscoveries of the day. Harker was the only one who had any result, andwe are in great hopes that his clue may be an important one.
Before going to bed I went round to the patient's room and looked inthrough the observation trap. He was sleeping soundly, and his chestrose and fell with regular respiration.
This morning the man on duty reported to me that a little after midnighthe was restless and kept saying his prayers somewhat loudly. I askedhim if that was all; he replied that it was all he heard. There wassomething about his manner so suspicious that I asked point-blank if hehad been asleep. He denied sleep, but admitted to having "dozed" for awhile. It is too bad that men cannot be trusted unless they are watched.
To-day Harker is out following up his clue, and Art and Quincey arelooking after horses. Godalming thinks that it will be well to havehorses always in readiness, for when we get the information which weseek there will be no time to lose. We must sterilise all the importedearth between sunrise and sunset; we shall thus catch the Count at hisweakest, and without a refuge to fly to. Van Helsing is off to theBritish Museum, looking up some authorities on ancient medicine. Theold physicians took account of things which their followers do notaccept, and the Professor is searching for witch and demon cures whichmay be useful later.
I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity instrait-waistcoats.
_Later._--We have met again. We seem at last to be on the track,and our work of to-morrow may be the beginning of the end. I wonderif Renfield's quiet has anything to do with this. His moods have sofollowed the doings of the Count, that the coming destruction of themonster may be carried to him in some subtle way. If we could only getsome hint as to what passed in his mind, between the time of my argumentwith him to-day and his resumption of fly-catching, it might afford us avaluable clue. He is now seemingly quiet for a spell.... Is he?---- thatwild yell seemed to come from his room....
The attendant came bursting into my room and told me that Renfield hadsomehow met with some accident. He had heard him yell; and when he wentto him found him lying on his face on the floor, all covered with blood.I must go at once....