talk all to ourselves.' I took the hint, and strolled about, and
presently the professor came to the window and called me in. He
looked grave, but said, ` I have made careful examination, but
there is no functional cause. With you I agree that there has been
much blood lost, it has been but is not. But the conditions of her
are in no way anemic. I have asked her to send me her maid, that I
may ask just one or two questions, that so I may not chance to miss
nothing. I know well what she will say. And yet there is cause.
There is always cause for everything. I must go back home and
think. You must send me the telegram every day, and if there be
cause I shall come again. The disease, for not to be well is a
disease, interest me, and the sweet, young dear, she interest me
too. She charm me, and for her, if not for you or disease, I
come.'
"As I tell you, he would not say a word more, even when we were
alone. And so now, Art, you know all I know. I shall keep stern
watch. I trust your poor father is rallying. It must be a terrible
thing to you, my dear old fellow, to be placed in such a position
between two people who are both so dear to you. I know your idea of
duty to your father, and you are right to stick to it. But if need
be, I shall send you word to come at once to Lucy, so do not be
over-anxious unless you hear from me."
DR. SEWARD'S DIARY
4 September.—Zoophagous patient still keeps up our interest in
him. He had only one outburst and that was yesterday at an unusual
time. Just before the stroke of noon he began to grow restless. The
attendant knew the symptoms, and at once summoned aid. Fortunately
the men came at a run, and were just in time, for at the stroke of
noon he became so violent that it took all their strength to hold
him. In about five minutes, however, he began to get more quiet,and
finally sank into a sort of melancholy, in which state he has
remained up to now. The attendant tells me that his screams whilst
in the paroxysm were really appalling. I found my hands full when Iin the paroxysm were really appalling. I found my hands full when I
got in, attending to some of the other patients who were frightened
by him. Indeed, I can quite understand the effect, for the sounds
disturbed even me, though I was some distance away. It is now after
the dinner hour of the asylum, and as yet my patient sits in a
corner brooding, with a dull, sullen, woe-begone look in his face,
which seems rather to indicate than to show something directly. I
cannot quite understand it.
Later.—Another change in my patient. At five o'clock I looked in
on him, and found him seemingly as happy and contented as he used
to be. He was catching flies and eating them, and was keeping note
of his capture by making nailmarks on the edge of the door between
the ridges of padding. When he saw me, he came over and apologized
for his bad conduct, and asked me in a very humble, cringing way to
be led back to his own room, and to have his notebook again. I
thought it well to humour him, so he is back in his room with the
window open. He has the sugar of his tea spread out on the window
sill, and is reaping quite a harvest of flies. He is not now eating
them, but putting them into a box, as of old, and is already
examining the corners of his room to find a spider. I tried to get
him to talk about the past few days, for any clue to his thoughts
would be of immense help to me, but he would not rise. For a moment
or two he looked very sad, and said in a sort of far away voice, as
though saying it rather to himself than to me.
"All over! All over! He has deserted me. No hope for me now
unless I do it myself!" Then suddenly turning to me in a resolute
way, he said,"Doctor, won't you be very good to me and let me have
a little more sugar? I think it would be very good for me."
"And the flies?" I said.
"Yes! The flies like it, too, and I like the flies, therefore I
like it."And there are people who know so little as to think that
madmen do not argue. I procured him a double supply, and left himmadmen do not argue. I procured him a double supply, and left him
as happy a man as, I suppose, any in the world. I wish I could
fathom his mind.
Midnight.—Another change in him. I had been to see Miss
Westenra, whom I found much better, and had just returned, and was
standing at our own gate looking at the sunset, when once more I
heard him yelling. As his room is on this side of the house, I
could hear it better than in the morning. It was a shock to me to
turn from the wonderful smoky beauty of a sunset over London, with
its lurid lights and inky shadows and all the marvellous tints that
come on foul clouds even as on foul water, and to realize all the
grim sternness of my own cold stone building, with its wealth of
breathing misery, and my own desolate heart to endure it all. I
reached him just as the sun was going down, and from his window saw
the red disc sink. As it sank he became less and less frenzied, and
just as it dipped he slid from the hands that held him, an inert
mass, on the floor. It is wonderful, however, what intellectual
recuperative power lunatics have, for within a few minutes he stood
up quite calmly and looked around him. I signalled to the
attendants not to hold him, for I was anxious to see what he would
do. He went straight over to the window and brushed out the crumbs
of sugar. Then he took his fly box, and emptied it outside, and
threw away the box. Then he shut the window, and crossing over, sat
down on his bed. All this surprised me, so I asked him,"Are you
going to keep flies any more?"
"No," said he. "I am sick of all that rubbish!" He certainly is
a wonderfully interesting study. I wish I could get some glimpse of
his mind or of the cause of his sudden passion. Stop. There may be
a clue after all, if we can find why today his paroxysms came on at
high noon and at sunset. Can it be that there is a malign influence
of the sun at periods which affects certain natures, as at times
the moon does others? We shall see.
TELEGRAM. SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN HELSING, AMSTERDAMthe moon does others? We shall see.
TELEGRAM. SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN HELSING, AMSTERDAM
"4 September.—Patient still better today."
TELEGRAM, SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN HELSING, AMSTERDAM
"5 September.—Patient greatly improved. Good appetite, sleeps
naturally, good spirits, color coming back."
TELEGRAM, SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN HELSING, AMSTERDAM
"6 September.—Terrible change for the worse. Come at once. Do
not lose an hour. I hold over telegram to Holmwood till have seen
you."