The Mammoth Book of Dracula (4 page)

HARKER: I hope I may be able to meet your wishes, and especially as I see so

many law books here.

DRACULA: First. In England may one have two solicitors, or more than two?

HARKER: You can have a dozen if you wished, but that it would not be wise to

have more than one solicitor engaged in one transaction, as the court would only hear one at a time, and that to change would be certain to militate against your interest.

DRACULA: Would there be any practical difficulty in having one man to attend,

say, to banking, and another to shipping, as if local help were needed in a place far from the home of the banking solicitor. I shall illustrate. Your friend and mine, Mr. Peter Hawkins, from under the shadow of your beautiful cathedral at Exeter, which is far from London, buys for me through your good self my place at London. Good! Now here let me say frankly, lest you should think it strange that I have sought the services of one so far off from London instead of some one resident there, that my motive was that no local interest might be served save my wish only; and as one of London resident might, perhaps, have some purpose of himself or friend to serve, I went thus afield to seek my agent, whose labours should be to my interest only. Now, suppose I, who have much of affairs, wish to ship goods, say, to Newcastle, or Durham, or Harwich, or Dover, might it not be that it could with more ease be done by consigning to one in these ports?

HARKER: Certainly it would be most easy, but we solicitors have a system of

agency one for the other. Local work can be done locally on instruction from any solicitor, so that the
client
simply placing himself in the hands of one man, can have his wishes carried out by him without further trouble.

DRACULA: But could I be at liberty to direct myself. Is it not so?

HARKER: Of course. Such is often done by men of business, who do not like the

whole of their affairs to be known by any one person.

DRACULA: Good! Now I must ask about the means of consigning goods and

the forms to be gone through, and of all sorts of difficulties which may arise and which by forethought can be guarded against.

HARKER: You would have made a wonderful solicitor, for there is nothing that

you do not think of or foresee. For a man who was never in the country, and who does not evidently do much in the way of business your knowledge is wonderful.

DRACULA: Have you written since you arrived to our friend Mr. Peter Hawkins,

or to any other?

HARKER: Well, as yet I have not seen any opportunity of sending letters to

anybody.

DRACULA: Then write now, my young friend, write to our friend and to any

other and say, if it will please you, that you shall stay with me until a month from now.

HARKER: Do you wish me to stay so long?

DRACULA: I desire it much; nay, I will take no refusal. When your master,

employer, what you will, engaged that some one should come on his behalf, it was understood that my needs only were to be consulted. I have not stinted. Is it not so?

HARKER:
(Aside)
After all, it is Mr. Hawkins’s interest, not mine, and I have to

think of him, not myself.

DRACULA: I pray you, my good young friend, that you will not discourse of

things other than business in your letters. It will doubtless please your friends to know that you are well, and that you look forward to getting home to them. Is it not so?

DRACULA AND HARKER EACH WRITE NOTES. COUNT GOES AWAY FOR A MOMENT AND HARKER READS ENVELOPES OF HIS LETTERS LEFT ON TABLE.

HARKER:
(Reads)
“Samuel F. Billington, No. 7, The Crescent, Whitby; to Herr

Leutner, Varna; Coutts & Co., London; Herren Klopstock & Billreuth, bankers, Buda-Pesth.”

ENTER DRACULA.

DRACULA: I trust you will forgive me, but I have much work to do in private

this evening. You will, I hope, find all things as you wish.

Let me advise you, my dear young friend, nay, let me warn you with all seriousness, that should you leave these rooms you will not by any chance go to sleep in any other part of the castle. It is old, and has many memories, and there are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely. Be warned! Should sleep now or ever overcome you, or be
like
to do, then haste to your own chamber or to these rooms, for your rest will then be safe. But if you be not careful in this respect, then -

HE MOTIONS WITH HIS HANDS AS IF HE IS WASHING THEM. EXIT COUNT.

HARKER: The castle is a veritable prison and I am a prisoner. I shall try to

watch him to-night.

~ * ~

Scene 4

THE CASTLE WALL.

HARKER IS SEEN LOOKING OUT OF AN UPPER NARROW WINDOW. COUNT’S HEAD IS SEEN COMING OUT OF LOWER WINDOW. GRADUALLY THE WHOLE MAN EMERGES AND CLIMBS DOWN THE WALL FACE DOWN AND DISAPPEARS GOING SIDEWAYS.

HARKER: What manner of man is this, or what manner of creature is it in the

semblance of man? I feel the dread of this horrible place overpowering me; I am in fear, in awful fear, and there is no escape for me; I am encompassed about with terrors that I dare not think of...

~ * ~

Scene 5

THE LADIES’ HALL.

A LARGE ROOM WITH BIG WINDOWS THROUGH WHICH MOONLIGHT STREAMS—SPLENDID OLD FURNITURE ALL IN RAGS AND COVERED WITH DUST. HARKER LIES ON SOFA.

HARKER: Here I can rest. It was lucky that the door to this wing was not really

locked but only appeared to be.

DOZES.

FIGURES OF THREE YOUNG WOMEN MATERIALIZE FROM THE MOONLIGHT AND SURROUND HIM.

FIRST WOMAN: Go on! You are first, and we shall follow; yours is the right to

begin.

SECOND WOMAN: He is young and strong; there are kisses for us all.

COUNT SUDDENLY APPEARS BESIDE THEM, AND TAKING WOMAN WHO IS JUST FASTENING HER LIPS ON HARKER’S THROAT, BY THE NECK HURLS HER AWAY.

DRACULA: How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on

him when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me. Beware how you meddle with him, or you’ll have to deal with me.

THIRD WOMAN: You yourself never loved; you never love!

DRACULA: Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not

so? Well, now I promise you when I am done with him you shall kiss him at your will. Now go! Go! I must awaken him, for there is work to be done.

FIRST WOMAN: Are we to have nothing to-night?

COUNT POINTS TO BAG WHICH HE HAS THROWN ON FLOOR AND WHICH MOVES AND A CHILD’S WAIL IS HEARD. WOMEN SEIZE BAG AND DISAPPEAR ALL AT ONCE. COUNT LIFTS UP HARKER WHO HAS FAINTED AND CARRIES HIM OFF. DARKNESS.

~ * ~

Scene 6

THE LIBRARY—HARKER DISCOVERED.

HARKER: Last night the Count told me to write three letters, one saying that my

work here was nearly done, and that I should start for home within a few days; another that I was starting on the next morning from the time of the letter, and the third that I had left the castle and arrived at Bistritz. In the present state of things it would be madness to openly quarrel with the Count whilst I am so absolutely in his power, and to refuse would be to excite his suspicion and to arouse his anger. He knows that I know too much, and that I must not live, lest I be dangerous to him; my only chance is to prolong my opportunities. Something may occur which will give me a chance to escape.

ENTER DRACULA.

DRACULA: Posts are few and uncertain, and your writing now would ensure

ease of mind to your friends. Your letters will be held over at Bistritz until due time in case chance would admit of your prolonging your stay.

HARKER:
(Aside)
To oppose him would be to create new suspicion.

(Aloud)
What dates shall I put on the letters?

DRACULA: The first should be June 12, the second June 19, and the third June

29.

EXIT DRACULA.

HARKER:
(Aside)
I know now the span of my life, God help me!

There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being able to send word home. A band of Szagany have come to the castle, and are encamped in the courtyard.

I shall write some letters home, and shall try to get them to have them posted. I have already spoken to them through my window to begin an acquaintanceship. They take their hats off and make obeisance and many signs, which, however, I cannot understand any more than I can their spoken language ... I have written the letters. Mina’s is in shorthand, and I simply ask Mr. Hawkins to communicate with her. To her I have explained my situation, but without the horrors which I may only surmise. It would shock and frighten her to death were I to expose my heart to her. Should the letters not carry, then the Count shall not yet know my secret or the extent of my knowledge ... I give the letters; I throw them through the bars of my window with a gold piece, and make what signs I can to have them posted. The man who takes them puts them to his heart and bows, and then presses them in his cap. I can do no more.

ENTER DRACULA.

HARKER: Steady, the Count has come.

DRACULA: The Szagany has given me two letters, of which, though I know not

whence they come, I shall, of course, take care. See! -One is from you, and to my friend Peter Hawkins; the other—
(Sees shorthand—anger)
other is a vile thing, an outrage upon friendship and hospitality! It is not named. Well! so it cannot matter to us. The letter to Hawkins—that I shall, of course, send on, since it is yours. Your letters are sacred to me. Your pardon, my friend, that unknowingly I did break the seal. Will you not cover it again?

HARKER WRITES ENVELOPE.

DRACULA: So, my friend, you are tired? Get to bed. There is the surest rest. I

may not have the pleasure to talk to-night, since there are many labours to me; but you will sleep!

EXIT DRACULA.

HARKER: I hear without, a cracking of whips and pounding and scraping of

horses’ feet up the rocky path beyond the courtyard. I must hurry to the window. I see drive into the yard two great leiter-wagons, each drawn by eight sturdy horses, and at the head of each pair a Slovak. I shall go to them.
(Tries door).

My door is fastened on the outside. I run to the window and cry to them. They look up at me stupidly and point, but the “hetman” of the Szagany comes out and seeing them pointing to my window, says something, at which they laugh. They turn away. The leiter-wagons contained great, square boxes, with handles of thick rope; these are evidently empty by the ease with which the Slovaks handle them and by their resonance as they are roughly moved. They are all unloaded and packed in a great heap in one corner of the yard; the Slovaks are given some money by the Szagany, and spitting on it for luck, lazily go each to his horse’s head. The cracking of their whips die away in the distance. The Szagany are quartered somewhere in the castle, and are doing work of some kind. I know it, for now and then I hear a far-away, muffled sound as of mattock and spade, and, whatever it is, it must be to the end of some ruthless villainy.

I see something coming out of the Count’s window. He has on the suit of clothes which I had worn whilst travelling here and slung over his shoulder the terrible bag which I had seen the women take away. There can be no doubt as to his quest, and in my garb, too! This, then, is his new scheme of evil: he will allow others to see me, as they think, so that he may both leave evidence that I have been seen in the towns or villages posting my own letters, and that any wickedness which he may do shall by the local people be attributed to me.

I shall watch for the Count’s return. What are these quaint little flecks floating in the rays of the moonlight? They are like the tiniest grains of dust, and they whirl round and gather in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. I watch them with a sense of soothing, and a sort of calm steals over me.