12 September.—How good they all are to me. I quite love that
dear Dr. Van Helsing. I wonder why he was so anxious about these
flowers. He positively frightened me, he was so fierce. And yet he
must have been right, for I feel comfort from them already.
Somehow, I do not dread being alone tonight, and I can go to sleep
without fear. I shall not mind any flapping outside the window. Oh,
the terrible struggle that I have had against sleep so often of
late, the pain of sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep,
and with such unknown horrors as it has for me! How blessed are
some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads, to whom sleep is
a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams.
Well, here I am tonight, hoping for sleep, and lying like Ophelia
in the play, with`virgin crants and maiden strewments.' I never
liked garlic before, but tonight it is delightful! There is peace
in its smell. I feel sleep coming already. Goodnight,
everybody.
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
13 September.—Called at the Berkeley and found Van Helsing, as
usual, up to time. The carriage ordered from the hotel was waiting.
The Professor took his bag, which he always brings with him
now.
Let all be put down exactly. Van Helsing and I arrived at
Hillingham at eight o'clock. It was a lovely morning. The bright
sunshine and all the fresh feeling of early autumn seemed like the
completion of nature's annual work. The leaves were turning to all
kinds of beautiful colors, but had not yet begun to drop from the
trees. When we entered we met Mrs. Westenra coming out of the
morning room. She is always an early riser. She greeted us warmly
and said,
"You will be glad to know that Lucy is better. The dear child is
still asleep. I looked into her room and saw her, but did not go
in, lest I should disturb her." The Professor smiled, and looked
quite jubilant. He rubbed his hands together, and said, "Aha! I
thought I had diagnosed the case. My treatment is working."
To which she replied, "You must not take all the credit toTo which she replied, "You must not take all the credit to
yourself, doctor. Lucy's state this morning is due in part to
me."
"How do you mean, ma'am?" asked the Professor.
"Well, I was anxious about the dear child in the night, and went
into her room. She was sleeping soundly, so soundly that even my
coming did not wake her. But the room was awfully stuffy. There
were a lot of those horrible, strongsmelling flowers about
everywhere, and she had actually a bunch of them round her neck. I
feared that the heavy odor would be too much for the dear child in
her weak state, so I took them all away and opened a bit of the
window to let in a little fresh air. You will be pleased with her,
I am sure."
She moved off into her boudoir, where she usually breakfasted
early. As she had spoken, I watched the Professor's face, and saw
it turn ashen gray. He had been able to retain his self-command
whilst the poor lady was present, for he knew her state and how
mischievous a shock would be. He actually smiled on her as he held
open the door for her to pass into her room. But the instant she
had disappeared he pulled me, suddenly and forcibly, into the
dining room and closed the door.
Then, for the first time in my life, I saw Van Helsing break
down. He raised his hands over his head in a sort of mute despair,
and then beat his palms together in a helpless way. Finally he sat
down on a chair, and putting his hands before his face, began to
sob, with loud, dry sobs that seemed to come from the very racking
of his heart.
Then he raised his arms again, as though appealing to the whole
universe. "God! God! God!" he said. "What have we done, what has
this poor thing done, that we are so sore beset? Is there fate
amongst us still, send down from the pagan world of old, that such
things must be, and in such way? This poor mother, all unknowing,
and all for the best as she think, does such thing as lose her
daughter body and soul, and we must not tell her, we must not evendaughter body and soul, and we must not tell her, we must not even
warn her, or she die, then both die. Oh, how we are beset! How are
all the powers of the devils against us!"
Suddenly he jumped to his feet. "Come," he said."come, we must
see and act. Devils or no devils, or all the devils at once, it
matters not. We must fight him all the same." He went to the hall
door for his bag, and together we went up to Lucy's room.
Once again I drew up the blind, whilst Van Helsing went towards
the bed. This time he did not start as he looked on the poor face
with the same awful, waxen pallor as before. He wore a look of
stern sadness and infinite pity.
"As I expected," he murmured, with that hissing inspiration of
his which meant so much. Without a word he went and locked the
door, and then began to set out on the little table the instruments
for yet another operation of transfusion of blood. I had long ago
recognized the necessity, and begun to take off my coat, but he
stopped me with a warning hand. "No!" he said. "Today you must
operate. I shall provide. You are weakened already." As he spoke he
took off his coat and rolled up his shirtsleeve.
Again the operation. Again the narcotic. Again some return of
color to the ashy cheeks, and the regular breathing of healthy
sleep. This time I watched whilst Van Helsing recruited himself and
rested.
Presently he took an opportunity of telling Mrs. Westenra that
she must not remove anything from Lucy's room without consulting
him. That the flowers were of medicinal value, and that the
breathing of their odor was a part of the system of cure. Then he
took over the care of the case himself, saying that he would watch
this night and the next, and would send me word when to come.
After another hour Lucy waked from her sleep, fresh and bright
and seemingly not much the worse for her terrible ordeal.
What does it all mean? I am beginning to wonder if my long habit
of life amongst the insane is beginning to tell upon my own
brain.
LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY