the room. Then it occurred to me that I had shut the window before
I had come to bed. I would have got out to make certain on the
point, but some leaden lethargy seemed to chain my limbs and even
my will. I lay still and endured, that was all. I closed my eyes,
but could still see through my eyelids. (It is wonderful what
tricks our dreams play us, and how conveniently we can imagine.)
The mist grew thicker and thicker and I could see now how it came
in, for I could see it like smoke, or with the white energy of
boiling water, pouring in, not through the window, but through the
joinings of the door. It got thicker and thicker, till it seemed as
if it became concentrated into a sort of pillar of cloud in the
room, through the top of which I could see the light of the gas
shining like a red eye. Things began to whirl through my brain just
as the cloudy column was now whirling in the room, and through it
all came the scriptural words "a pillar of cloud by day and of fire
by night." Was it indeed such spiritual guidance that was coming to
me in my sleep? But the pillar was composed of both the day and the
night guiding, for the fire was in the red eye, which at the
thought gat a new fascination for me, till, as I looked, the fire
divided, and seemed to shine on me through the fog like two red
eyes, such as Lucy told me of in her momentary mental wandering
when, on the cliff, the dying sunlight struck the windows of St.
Mary's Church. Suddenly the horror burst upon me that it was thus
that Jonathan had seen those awful women growing into reality
through the whirling mist in the moonlight, and in my dream I must
have fainted, for all became black darkness. The last conscious
effort which imagination made was to show me a livid white face
bending over me out of the mist.
I must be careful of such dreams, for they would unseat one's
reason if there were too much of them. I would get Dr. Van Helsing
or Dr. Seward to prescribe something for me which would make meor Dr. Seward to prescribe something for me which would make me
sleep, only that I fear to alarm them. Such a dream at the present
time would become woven into their fears for me. Tonight I shall
strive hard to sleep naturally. If I do not, I shall tomorrow night
get them to give me a dose of chloral, that cannot hurt me for
once, and it will give me a good night's sleep. Last night tired me
more than if I had not slept at all.
2 October 10 p. m.—Last night I slept, but did not dream. I must
have slept soundly, for I was not waked by Jonathan coming to bed,
but the sleep has not refreshed me, for today I feel terribly weak
and spiritless. I spent all yesterday trying to read, or lying down
dozing. In the afternon, Mr. Renfield asked if he might see me.Poor
man, he was very gentle, and when I came away he kissed my hand and
bade God bless me. Some way it affected me much. I am crying when I
think of him. This is a new weakness, of which I must be careful.
Jonathan would be miserable if he knew I had been crying. He and
the others were out till dinner time, and they all came in tired. I
did what I could to brighten them up, and I suppose that the effort
did me good, for I forgot how tired I was. After dinner they sent
me to bed, and all went off to smoke together, as they said, but I
knew that they wanted to tell each other of what had occurred to
each during the day. I could see from Jonathan's manner that he had
something important to communicate. I was not so sleepy as I should
have been, so before they went I asked Dr. Seward to give me a
little opiate of some kind, as I had not slept well the night
before. He very kindly made me up a sleeping draught, which he gave
to me, telling me that it would do me no harm, as it was very
mild … I have taken it, and am waiting for sleep, which still
keeps aloof. I hope I have not done wrong, for as sleep begins to
flirt with me, a new fear comes, that I may have been foolish in
thus depriving myself of the power of waking. I might want it. Here
comes sleep. Goodnight.1 October, evening.—I found Thomas Snelling in his house at
Bethnal Green, but unhappily he was not in a condition to remember
anything. The very prospect of beer which my expected coming had
opened to him had proved too much, and he had begun too early on
his expected debauch. I learned, however, from his wife, who seemed
a decent, poor soul, that he was only the assistant of Smollet, who
of the two mates was the responsible person. So off I drove to
Walworth, and found Mr. Joseph Smollet at home and in his
shirtsleeves, taking a late tea out of a saucer. He is a decent,
intelligent fellow, distinctly a good, reliable type of workman,
and with a headpiece of his own. He remembered all about the
incident of the boxes, and from a wonderful dog-eared notebook,
which he produced from some mysterious receptacle about the seat 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
and left at 197 Chicksand Street, Mile End New Town, and another
six which he deposited at Jamaica Lane, Bermondsey. If then the
Count meant to scatter these ghastly refuges of his over London,
these places were chosen as the first of delivery, so that later he
might distribute more fully. The systematic manner in which this
was done made me think that he could not mean to confine himself to
two sides of London. He was now fixed on the far east on the
northern shore, on the east of the southern shore, and on the
south. The north and west were surely never meant to be left out of
his diabolical scheme, let alone the City itself and the very heart
of fashionable London in the south-west and west. I went back to
Smollet, and asked him if he could tell us if any other boxes had
been taken from Carfax.
He replied, "Well guv'nor, you've treated me very 'an'some", I
had given him half a sovereign, "an I'll tell yer all I know. I
heard a man by the name of Bloxam say four nights ago in the 'Are