Atlas Nightshade

Day 51

"My friend Arthur, you have had a sore trial; but after, when you look

back, you will see how it was necessary. You are now in the bitter

waters, my child. By this time to-morrow you will, please God, have

passed them, and have drunk of the sweet waters; so do not mourn

overmuch. Till then I shall not ask you to forgive me."

Arthur and Quincey came home with me, and we tried to cheer each other

on the way. We had left the child in safety, and were tired; so we all

slept with more or less reality of sleep.

* * * * *

_29 September, night._--A little before twelve o'clock we three--Arthur,

Quincey Morris, and myself--called for the Professor. It was odd to

notice that by common consent we had all put on black clothes. Of

course, Arthur wore black, for he was in deep mourning, but the rest of

us wore it by instinct. We got to the churchyard by half-past one, and

strolled about, keeping out of official observation, so that when the

gravediggers had completed their task and the sexton under the belief

that every one had gone, had locked the gate, we had the place all to

ourselves. Van Helsing, instead of his little black bag, had with him a

long leather one, something like a cricketing bag; it was manifestly of

fair weight.

When we were alone and had heard the last of the footsteps die out up

the road, we silently, and as if by ordered intention, followed the

Professor to the tomb. He unlocked the door, and we entered, closing it

behind us. Then he took from his bag the lantern, which he lit, and also

two wax candles, which, when lighted, he stuck, by melting their own

ends, on other coffins, so that they might give light sufficient to work

by. When he again lifted the lid off Lucy's coffin we all looked--Arthur

trembling like an aspen--and saw that the body lay there in all its

death-beauty. But there was no love in my own heart, nothing but

loathing for the foul Thing which had taken Lucy's shape without her

soul. I could see even Arthur's face grow hard as he looked. Presently

he said to Van Helsing:--

"Is this really Lucy's body, or only a demon in her shape?"

"It is her body, and yet not it. But wait a while, and you all see her

as she was, and is."

She seemed like a nightmare of Lucy as she lay there; the pointed teeth,

the bloodstained, voluptuous mouth--which it made one shudder to

see--the whole carnal and unspiritual appearance, seeming like a

devilish mockery of Lucy's sweet purity. Van Helsing, with his usual

methodicalness, began taking the various contents from his bag and

placing them ready for use. First he took out a soldering iron and some

plumbing solder, and then a small oil-lamp, which gave out, when lit in

a corner of the tomb, gas which burned at fierce heat with a blue

flame; then his operating knives, which he placed to hand; and last a

round wooden stake, some two and a half or three inches thick and about

three feet long. One end of it was hardened by charring in the fire, and

was sharpened to a fine point. With this stake came a heavy hammer, such

as in households is used in the coal-cellar for breaking the lumps. To

me, a doctor's preparations for work of any kind are stimulating and

bracing, but the effect of these things on both Arthur and Quincey was

to cause them a sort of consternation. They both, however, kept their

courage, and remained silent and quiet.

When all was ready, Van Helsing said:--

"Before we do anything, let me tell you this; it is out of the lore and

experience of the ancients and of all those who have studied the powers

of the Un-Dead. When they become such, there comes with the change the

curse of immortality; they cannot die, but must go on age after age

adding new victims and multiplying the evils of the world; for all that

die from the preying of the Un-Dead becomes themselves Un-Dead, and prey

on their kind. And so the circle goes on ever widening, like as the

ripples from a stone thrown in the water. Friend Arthur, if you had met

that kiss which you know of before poor Lucy die; or again, last night

when you open your arms to her, you would in time, when you had died,

have become _nosferatu_, as they call it in Eastern Europe, and would

all time make more of those Un-Deads that so have fill us with horror.

The career of this so unhappy dear lady is but just begun. Those

children whose blood she suck are not as yet so much the worse; but if

she live on, Un-Dead, more and more they lose their blood and by her

power over them they come to her; and so she draw their blood with that

so wicked mouth. But if she die in truth, then all cease; the tiny

wounds of the throats disappear, and they go back to their plays

unknowing ever of what has been. But of the most blessed of all, when

this now Un-Dead be made to rest as true dead, then the soul of the poor

lady whom we love shall again be free. Instead of working wickedness by

night and growing more debased in the assimilating of it by day, she

shall take her place with the other Angels. So that, my friend, it will

be a blessed hand for her that shall strike the blow that sets her free.

To this I am willing; but is there none amongst us who has a better

right? Will it be no joy to think of hereafter in the silence of the

night when sleep is not: 'It was my hand that sent her to the stars; it

was the hand of him that loved her best; the hand that of all she would

herself have chosen, had it been to her to choose?' Tell me if there be

such a one amongst us?"

We all looked at Arthur. He saw, too, what we all did, the infinite

kindness which suggested that his should be the hand which would restore

Lucy to us as a holy, and not an unholy, memory; he stepped forward and

said bravely, though his hand trembled, and his face was as pale as

snow:--

"My true friend, from the bottom of my broken heart I thank you. Tell me

what I am to do, and I shall not falter!" Van Helsing laid a hand on his

shoulder, and said:--

"Brave lad! A moment's courage, and it is done. This stake must be

driven through her. It will be a fearful ordeal--be not deceived in

that--but it will be only a short time, and you will then rejoice more

than your pain was great; from this grim tomb you will emerge as though

you tread on air. But you must not falter when once you have begun. Only

think that we, your true friends, are round you, and that we pray for

you all the time."

"Go on," said Arthur hoarsely. "Tell me what I am to do."

"Take this stake in your left hand, ready to place the point over the

heart, and the hammer in your right. Then when we begin our prayer for

the dead--I shall read him, I have here the book, and the others shall

follow--strike in God's name, that so all may be well with the dead that

we love and that the Un-Dead pass away."

Arthur took the stake and the hammer, and when once his mind was set on

action his hands never trembled nor even quivered. Van Helsing opened

his missal and began to read, and Quincey and I followed as well as we

could. Arthur placed the point over the heart, and as I looked I could

see its dint in the white flesh. Then he struck with all his might.

The Thing in the coffin writhed; and a hideous, blood-curdling screech

came from the opened red lips. The body shook and quivered and twisted

in wild contortions; the sharp white teeth champed together till the

lips were cut, and the mouth was smeared with a crimson foam. But Arthur

never faltered. He looked like a figure of Thor as his untrembling arm

rose and fell, driving deeper and deeper the mercy-bearing stake, whilst

the blood from the pierced heart welled and spurted up around it. His

face was set, and high duty seemed to shine through it; the sight of it

gave us courage so that our voices seemed to ring through the little

vault.

And then the writhing and quivering of the body became less, and the

teeth seemed to champ, and the face to quiver. Finally it lay still. The

terrible task was over.