Dracula The Undead Part 19

We did not leave Carfax without making a thorough search. But as Kovacs had said, they were gone. The door to the keep was unlocked, and in two of the chambers we found signs of recent habitation; the embers were still warm in the grates, and I plucked several of Quincey's gold hairs from the pillows of both beds. But the house was deserted, the caleche and horses gone from the stable.

When we returned to the crypt to talk to Kovacs once more, a weird fluttering of the air began. The whole, low vault of the chapel was coming alive, rustling, peeling off in sooty layers. The air was suddenly full of flying things; bats and huge moths. Disgust and panic gripped us as they swarmed around our heads. We struggled to beat them off, but more came, flapping around us, tangling in our hair.

Defeated, we turned and rushed out of the chapel, heads down and hands flailing wildly. Dracula's servants, the beasts of darkness, pay no heed to holy symbols!

Outside, the remaining dogs let us pa.s.s, but once we were beyond them, they leaped up and came growling after us until they had driven us off the premises. One bit me hard in my nerveless right arm; I barely realized it had happened until I saw the blood flowing. Seward beat the dog off with a club.

Disheartened, desperate and exhausted, we retired to Dr Seward's house. Alice Seward was there to meet us, and we have told her everything. She is like a mother to us, and unshockable.

As we sat over a hurried meal, Van Helsing said, 'Of course, it is obvious why Dracula wanted us to destroy Professor Kovacs!'

'Is it?' Seward said sourly.

'He wants no other male vampire, that might challenge his power. But the fact that Dracula did not do it himself, that he must have us do it - this means only one thing, that the vampire cannot destroy his own kind!'

'Or thinks he cannot, at least,' said Seward. 'The so-called Beherit seemed to have no difficulty in beheading Miklos.'

'Who had not yet become Undead. But that is a fascinating idea - a vampire who breaks free of the restrictions that nature and G.o.d have placed upon him! And this is the secret Dracula may discover, if we do not prevent him reaching the Scholomance!'

Van Helsing was animated - even excited. I said, 'I don't know what you find so amusing, professor.'

'The abstract idea. The ludicrousness of the natural and the supernatural. You know me by now, friend Jonathan -but I ask your forgiveness for my jocular tone, all the same. I cannot stop being fascinated by the unknown, however dire our situation.'

'But,' said Seward, thoughtfully, 'if a vampire can think, and reason, as Dracula clearly can, and feel regret, and self-knowledge, and concern for his living relatives, as Professor Kovacs obviously can - have we any right to destroy such a sentient being?'

For pity's sake, don't start on this!' I cried. 'I shall go mad.'

Seward put his hand on mine. I'm sorry, Harker. At least we know Mina and Quincey are alive.'

'For how long?' I groaned.

Van Helsing said, 'Ah, friend Jonathan, do not lose heart! For I know what it is to lose a son in boyhood, and for this reason share keenly your sorrow. I too have lost wife and son and have nothing left but my work; therefore I am all the more determined that you shall not have cause to grieve as I have! For all that our brotherhood is diminished, shall not . those of us who remain be closer, and more resolute than ever to go on to the bitter end? We have received another setback, but if I feel my resolve waver then I have only to look on your sad face or to think of poor Madam Mina and the innocent child, and I am more determined than ever that the author of this misery must be destroyed, once and for eternity.'

Solemnly, the remaining three of us remade our promise; and my vow, even though I felt it to be hopeless, was heartfelt.

Well, I have all the time in the world to write this account -- "3 which I do, very slowly and laboriously, with my swollen right hand.

Van Helsing, Seward and Kovacs have gone after Dracula without me.

I find this unbearable, but there is no choice. I have only one good arm, yesterday's adventure has aggravated my damaged ribs, and to crown everything I have a fever. I * protested, all the time they were making ready, but in the end I was forced to admit the truth. I am unfit to travel. I would only hold them back. I shall help Mina and Quincey more by remaining in Seward's house, under Alice Seward's maternal care.

How intolerable, to be so incapacitated! And every wound I have received, to body or mind, has been dealt by Dracula.

None of us are young men now. I am greatly concerned for Van Helsing, in particular. For all his courage he is, truth be told, a tired and grief-stricken old man. Dracula has sucked the spirit from each and every one of us.

Chapter Fifteen.

JONATHAN MARKER'S JOURNAL.

17 November I am certain that my decision to stay behind was for the best. My ribs are so bruised that I can stand only with difficulty. The bite I received from the dog is inflamed, and I s.h.i.+ver with fever; this in addition to the loss of use in my right hand! I am well enough to sit in a chair with a rug over my knees, like some ageing invalid - ah, but for heroic deeds, I am as useless as a girl-child.

Van Helsing has promised to keep us informed of their progress. As yet, we have heard nothing. He left us a bag containing the usual tools and wards against vampires, just in case we should need them, but I cannot bear to look upon them and have removed the bag to the other, empty guest-room.

I wish I could order my thoughts about Mina. In my heart I love her; I know she is still the good, pure woman I married; I would do anything to be the husband she deserves, to brave fire and flood to save her! I cannot bear my enforced idleness.

Yet in some cold, festering portion of my brain - which I cannot overcome, as if it were some ghastly sore planted by Dracula seven years ago - another Mina lives, and will not be erased. The fallen Mina, who welcomed Dracula's embraces, who went all too easily into the darkness with him.

Am I being quite unjust? Was there any manner in which she might have stood firm against him, refused his demand that she go with him? I don't see how. Yet I believe it would be almost better for our son to die, than for Mina to have surrendered her virtue - 1 mean the rich virtue of her whole, good being!

Alice Seward is looking after me. She is like a mother, so strong and good. She knows everything; I am glad she is not some innocent who must be s.h.i.+elded from harsh knowledge. I feel at ease with her. We can be gloom-ridden together!

She said, after Dr Seward had gone with Van Helsing, 'I fear I will lose my husband to Dracula even now; I mean, if not physically, that I will lose him to his obsession. He wants science, rationality. The irrational unhinges him.'

'But he works with the insane every day of his life, and has done so for years!' I protested.

'But that is why he works with them,' Alice answered. 'To understand them, to make sense of nonsense. He must go out and fight it, like St George against the dragon - out of fear as much as courage. The irrational never goes away. It comes back again and again, in different forms, to try the strong and the weak alike.'

I am sitting alone in the pleasant guest-room, which is cosy enough; yet certain companions seem all too close. That is, the chill of the night, the moans of the asylum inmates, and the howling of dogs from the grounds of Carfax Abbey.

19 November Last night, as I sat playing cards with Alice in the drawing room, we heard someone pounding at the front door. We both got up, startled. Then one of the maids came in looking worried, and said, 'A woman and child to see Mr Harker, ma'am. The woman seems indisposed.'

The visitors were shown up, and there in the doorway stood Elena, holding Quincey by the hand! I was so astonished that I could say and do nothing. Quincey looked sleepy and bewildered; seeing me, he cried, 'Papa!' and rushed to my arms!

As he left her side, Elena fell forward in a dead faint.

Quickly we took her upstairs to the unoccupied guest-room, revived her with smelling salts then gave her water and drops of brandy. While I sat with her, Alice took charge of Quincey, fed and bathed him and took him to her own room. (I can only hope that his childlike trust in Elena has s.h.i.+elded him from realizing the peril he was in.) Elena had all the signs of Dracula's attentions: ragged, unwholesome-looking wounds in her neck, the rapid heartbeat and shallow breathing. Her flesh was tinged almost to pale yellow and drawn back against me bone, her teeth prominent under her taut lips. Her eyes were large and brilliant in lakes of purplish-black, the skin so thin the bones of the eye sockets could be seen through it. Her lids kept falling sleepily.

She looked very sick - near to death.

When we had revived her, she clutched at my arm and tried to haul herself up. 'Your friends,' she gasped, 'they are pursuing Dracula? Why not you?'

'I am injured,' I said. 'But I don't understand. How is it that you came here? Where is Mina? We were told that Dracula had taken you all away!'

She spoke with effort, between wheezing breaths. 'Dracula took only Mina with him. He told her I had run away with Quincey, that she must go with him to bring us back. Dracula lied to Mina, and I lied to my uncle.'

'But why?'

'It is my uncle's fault, for coming here and telling him about Beherit and the Scholomance. I wish Dracula had not gone! But he insisted he must go to the Scholomance at once. He needs Mina as his hostage; that is the only reason he took her, not that he truly wants her - not as he wants me. He lied about Quincey and me to ensure her co-operation. We would have slowed him down, you see; the boy would not have withstood the journey. So Dracula told me to hide with him in Carfax and remain there until he returned.'

'But we searched Carfax!'

She gave a smile which showed her long teeth horribly. 'You did not search well enough, Mr Harker. There are many hidden rooms into which you did not even glance.'

'But why have you come to us now?'

'Because I am dying,' she said, her voice fading. 'I feel myself growing weaker and weaker and I grow very afraid. I do not want to die and abandon Quincey to starve alone in that great, deserted house! Help me.'

I held her hand and wept. So Elena has still some human feelings left for us, after all! 'Of course we will help you. G.o.d has not deserted you! Thank you, bless you for bringing our son back to us!'

I went in to Alice, and found her putting Quincey to bed with hot cocoa. Strangely - and to my immense relief! - he seems well.

I thought the damp of Carfax would have put a strain upon his lungs, yet he is alert and rosy-cheeked.

I took Alice aside, and asked if she had ever a.s.sisted in a blood transfusion.

'Of course. I have a.s.sisted my husband in many medical procedures.'

'I am going to give Elena a transfusion of my blood. We may save her life.'

She looked sternly at me. 'No, Jonathan. You are not strong enough.'

'I disagree.'

'Jonathan,' she said firmly, 'that dog bite you received is infected; do you want to risk pa.s.sing that infection to our patient and poisoning her blood? Let me do it. I am large and strong, with blood to spare!'

I could not but admire Alice's courage. We attended Elena together. I gave Elena a draught of laudanum to drink, that she might sleep through the operation; Alice fetched her husband's transfusion equipment.

What an extraordinary picture we must have made in the warm light of the lamp and the fire. Alice sat by the bed, connected to Elena almost as a mother might be to her new-born; meanwhile I sat and stroked Elena's pallid, high forehead as the faintest flush suffused her cheeks. Poor dear girl! All she had done against us was forgotten; all I felt for her at this moment was the tenderest sympathy.

I felt a little uneasy, I must admit, performing this operation without the supervision of Seward or Van Helsing. Presently Alice began to look pale and listless, and we knew it was time to call a halt.

Now I have sent her to bed - she has Quincey in her room - while I sit up with Elena, and write in my journal in the hope of keeping myself awake. Elena looks so peaceful. Perhaps, now she is out of Dracula's grasp, she will turn away from evil and become the sweet, good woman she should be!

I wish we had word from Van Helsing. Are they still in England, or on their way to the continent by now? Will Dracula have gone by s.h.i.+p again? Is Mina utterly lost to us? My eyes cloud, and I cannot think clearly upon any of these questions.

20 November I fell asleep where I sat, to my eternal shame. I remember only one thing more of the night; that as I was just beginning to doze, Elena's eyes opened and she spoke to me with heavy, laboured breaths. She said something of this kind, 'Take this, Jonathan. It is the remainder of my journal, the main body of which I left in Exeter; read it all, if you have not done so already. Then you will know my heart. I will write no more.'

She pulled some folded papers from her breast and thrust them into my hands. They were covered in her tiny writing. I put them aside and said, 'Hush. Go to sleep now.'

The next I knew, it was full daylight and Alice was shaking my arm. I was sitting up in the chair, aching all over and so stiff I could barely move; this the sum of my injuries and sleeping in so awkward a position. The morning sun pierced a gap in the curtains, widening to a veil of light as she drew them back; and this veil fell beautifully across Elena, who lay peacefully beneath the covers.

I leaned over her, and saw at once that she was dead.

Her eyes gleamed like slivers of dark gla.s.s under the half-open lids; her mouth hung slack as an old woman's, and her fingers were curled in pain. I started back with a cry; I could not, cannot believe that our treatment failed to save her! I was distraught but Alice's serene practicality calmed me somewhat.

She examined Elena for signs of life; finding none, she closed the girl's eyes, composed her body, and drew the sheet over her face with a sigh. 'Poor dear. Poor ill-used soul! Come, Mr Barker, come down to breakfast.'

'I cannot eat.'

'Then take some tea, at least. We can do nothing for her now.'

We said a prayer, and left the room.

Now I cannot avoid the suspicion that the blood transfusion in some way hastened her death, rather than delaying it. I did not say this to Alice, of course. I have no reason for my doubt, I am sure her blood was wholesome. But, oh G.o.d, what if, in trying to cure Elena, I have killed her?

Later This day has seemed endless. Pain pervades my whole body; I cannot separate physical ennervation from the gloom that lies over the house. One shades into the other. No news from Van Helsing. I am constantly aware of Elena's corpse lying in the closed room above us.

As darkness began to fall, I could no longer resist the compulsion to view the body. I crept into the room, and drew back the sheet. ..

Ah, G.o.d, her face! It was tilted slightly towards me and in death had taken on a fresh bloom of youth. Her cheeks and mouth were restored to their firm, flowing lines, her forehead was smooth. Her lips were slightly curved in mysterious amus.e.m.e.nt, and her hair lay thick and glossy upon the pillow. The full black crescents of her eyelashes, lying upon her cheeks, glittered as if tears were gathering between them. Her appearance of beauty, after all that had happened, flooded me with horror.

I screamed. What happened next is confused; I recall it as if through a black curtain. My only thought was that I must save us both from further evil. The bag of Van Helsing's, which I'd placed in this room to be out of my sight, lay on the floor against the dressing table. I opened the bag and took out a long wooden stake, sharpened to a lethal point. Gripping it as best I could in my left hand, I had the point poised over Elena's heart when Alice dashed in and grabbed hold of my arm.

Jonathan, what are you doing?' she cried.

I struggled with her, to my shame - my only excuse being that I was half out of my mind. 'I must stake her through the heart! It's the only way to save her soul!'

Alice's grip was enough to keep my wavering hand from its task. I had thought she would understand the necessity; but when it came to the point, a surfeit of common sense overwhelmed the belief she had professed to hold in our experiences with the Undead.

'Stop it!' she said, as to a child. 'The body of this unfortunate young girl deserves to be treated with respect. How can you think to defile her? She is no vampire, she is dead, G.o.d rest her soul. In the name of mercy, Jonathan, leave her in peace!'

I let Alice take the stake from me. She replaced it in the bag, which she then closed firmly and removed from the room. Drained of my pa.s.sion, I could see that from her point of view I was acting insanely. I had not the strength to resist her. I left Alice to replace the sheet over Elena's face, and to lock the door behind us.

'I will send for a doctor in the morning, then the undertaker,' she said more gently. 'Perhaps we will have word from my husband, too. Then all will seem better. You still have a fever, Jonathan; you should have a sleeping draught and an early night.'

Alone, I broke down and wept. Elena was so young! I can't stop thinking of her body, cold and stiff behind the locked door. I keep imagining her, warm and pliant as she was in life, when first she came to us; the way she used to sit with Quincey on her knee, her dark head bent over his golden one as she murmured to him. And then so waxen-beautiful in death, like an effigy, and the lamps burning around her deathbed, and her corpse stirring beneath the sheet.

21 November When she came to me in the night, I thought I dreamed; that memories were invading my sleep, becoming real and walking around me like ghosts.

I heard her voice first. 'Jonathan, Jonathan.' I opened my eyes and saw her drifting towards me, a soft white shape in muslin. As she leaned over me, her hair slid thick and l.u.s.trous over her shoulders and brushed my face. Her eyes shone, her complexion was of lilies and roses, so silken and dewy that I longed to touch her cheeks. I had left one lamp burning very low, and in its glow I saw the sheen of her full red lips. She ran the tip of her tongue over them and the sheen became a gloss.

Paralysis lay on me. I felt no shock, for it was as if I had known she would come - known since the first moment I met her. I was afraid, yes, but my terror seemed delicious. My longing for her was wicked and unashamed. I lay in blissful antic.i.p.ation, waiting for those glistening lips to touch mine, for the hard white teeth to indent my neck.

Mina forgive me! I felt I had waited seven years for this...

Elena drew the covers away from my body and slid alongside me. Her body was not cold but hot like a furnace. With my good arm I held her to me and let her press her voluptuous mouth to mine. She arched her back, forcing her body against me all down its slender length. Her wantonness made my heart race. When her leg slid up and over mine I was lost, slithering down into a lascivious pit, all sense of right and wrong suspended.

The tip of one of her eye-teeth touched my tongue, so sharp it drew blood. At that she hissed and stiffened, drawing back like a snake. Then her head went down shudderingly to my neck, and two hard points touched the s.h.i.+vering skin of my throat. I felt her tongue churning against my flesh, unutterably thrilling, urging me to the brink of a raging delight. Then she bit down. The flesh broke.

I gasped. I had never antic.i.p.ated such pain, such intensity of sensation; no one could know or imagine until they themselves felt that infernal kiss! Agony and dizzy ecstasy swept me out of myself.