use a respectable lunatic. He certainly did seem earnest, though. I
only hope we have done what is best. These things, in conjunction
with the wild work we have in hand, help to unnerve a man."
The Professor stepped over, and laying his hand on his shoulder,
said in his grave, kindly way, "Friend John, have no fear. We are
trying to do our duty in a very sad and terrible case, we can only
do as we deem best. What else have we to hope for, except the pity
of the good God?"
Lord Godalming had slipped away for a few minutes, but now he
returned. He held up a little silver whistle, as he remarked, "That
old place may be full of rats, and if so, I've got an antidote on
call."
Having passed the wall, we took our way to the house, taking
care to keep in the shadows of the trees on the lawn when the
moonlight shone out. When we got to the porch the Professor opened
his bag and took out a lot of things, which he laid on the step,
sorting them into four little groups, evidently one for each. Then
he spoke.
"My friends, we are going into a terrible danger, and we need
arms of many kinds. Our enemy is not merely spiritual. Remember
that he has the strength of twenty men, and that, though our necks
or our windpipes are of the common kind, and therefore breakable or
crushable, his are not amenable to mere strength. A stronger man,
or a body of men more strong in all than him, can at certain times
hold him, but they cannot hurt him as we can be hurt by him. We
must, therefore, guard ourselves from his touch. Keep this near
your heart." As he spoke he lifted a little silver crucifix and
held it out to me, I being nearest to him, "put these flowers round
your neck," here he handed to me a wreath of withered garlic
blossoms, "for other enemies more mundane, this revolver and this
knife, and for aid in all, these so small electric lamps, which you
can fasten to your breast, and for all, and above all at the last,
this, which we must not desecrate needless."
This was a portion of Sacred Wafer, which he put in an envelopeThis was a portion of Sacred Wafer, which he put in an envelope
and handed to me. Each of the others was similarly equipped.
"Now,"he said,"friend John, where are the skeleton keys? If so
that we can open the door, we need not break house by the window,
as before at Miss Lucy's."
Dr. Seward tried one or two skeleton keys, his mechanical
dexterity as a surgeon standing him in good stead. Presently he got
one to suit, after a little play back and forward the bolt yielded,
and with a rusty clang, shot back. We pressed on the door, the
rusty hinges creaked, and it slowly opened. It was startlingly like
the image conveyed to me in Dr. Seward's diary of the opening of
Miss Westenra's tomb, I fancy that the same idea seemed to strike
the others, for with one accord they shrank back. The Professor was
the first to move forward, and stepped into the open door.
"In manus tuas, Domine!"he said, crossing himself as he passed
over the threshold. We closed the door behind us, lest when we
should have lit our lamps we should possibly attract attention from
the road. The Professor carefully tried the lock, lest we might not
be able to open it from within should we be in a hurry making our
exit. Then we all lit our lamps and proceeded on our search.
The light from the tiny lamps fell in all sorts of odd forms, as
the rays crossed each other, or the opacity of our bodies threw
great shadows. I could not for my life get away from the feeling
that there was someone else amongst us. I suppose it was the
recollection, so powerfully brought home to me by the grim
surroundings, of that terrible experience in Transylvania. I think
the feeling was common to us all, for I noticed that the others
kept looking over their shoulders at every sound and every new
shadow, just as I felt myself doing.
The whole place was thick with dust. The floor was seemingly
inches deep, except where there were recent footsteps, in which on
holding down my lamp I could see marks of hobnails where the dustholding down my lamp I could see marks of hobnails where the dust
was cracked. The walls were fluffy and heavy with dust, and in the
corners were masses of spider's webs, whereon the dust had gathered
till they looked like old tattered rags as the weight had torn them
partly down. On a table in the hall was a great bunch of keys, with
a timeyellowed label on each. They had been used several times, for
on the table were several similar rents in the blanket of dust,
similar to that exposed when the Professor lifted them.
He turned to me and said,"You know this place, Jonathan. You
have copied maps of it, and you know it at least more than we do.
Which is the way to the chapel?"
I had an idea of its direction, though on my former visit I had
not been able to get admission to it, so I led the way, and after a
few wrong turnings found myself opposite a low, arched oaken door,
ribbed with iron bands.
"This is the spot," said the Professor as he turned his lamp on
a small map of the house, copied from the file of my original
correspondence regarding the purchase. With a little trouble we
found the key on the bunch and opened the door. We were prepared
for some unpleasantness, for as we were opening the door a faint,
malodorous air seemed to exhale through the gaps, but none of us
ever expected such an odor as we encountered. None of the others
had met the Count at all at close quarters, and when I had seen him
he was either in the fasting stage of his existence in his rooms
or, when he was bloated with fresh blood, in a ruined building open
to the air, but here the place was small and close, and the long
disuse had made the air stagnant and foul. There was an earthy
smell, as of some dry miasma, which came through the fouler air.
But as to the odor itself, how shall I describe it? It was not
alone that it was composed of all the ills of mortality and with
the pungent, acrid smell of blood, but it seemed as though
corruption had become itself corrupt. Faugh! It sickens me to think