Atlas Nightshade

Day 36

the evening to measure for the coffin and to make arrangements.

When I got back Quincey was waiting for me. I told him I would see him

as soon as I knew about Lucy, and went up to her room. She was still

sleeping, and the Professor seemingly had not moved from his seat at her

side. From his putting his finger to his lips, I gathered that he

expected her to wake before long and was afraid of forestalling nature.

So I went down to Quincey and took him into the breakfast-room, where

the blinds were not drawn down, and which was a little more cheerful, or

rather less cheerless, than the other rooms. When we were alone, he said

to me:--

"Jack Seward, I don't want to shove myself in anywhere where I've no

right to be; but this is no ordinary case. You know I loved that girl

and wanted to marry her; but, although that's all past and gone, I can't

help feeling anxious about her all the same. What is it that's wrong

with her? The Dutchman--and a fine old fellow he is; I can see

that--said, that time you two came into the room, that you must have

_another_ transfusion of blood, and that both you and he were exhausted.

Now I know well that you medical men speak _in camera_, and that a man

must not expect to know what they consult about in private. But this is

no common matter, and, whatever it is, I have done my part. Is not that

so?"

"That's so," I said, and he went on:--

"I take it that both you and Van Helsing had done already what I did

to-day. Is not that so?"

"That's so."

"And I guess Art was in it too. When I saw him four days ago down at his

own place he looked queer. I have not seen anything pulled down so quick

since I was on the Pampas and had a mare that I was fond of go to grass

all in a night. One of those big bats that they call vampires had got at

her in the night, and what with his gorge and the vein left open, there

wasn't enough blood in her to let her stand up, and I had to put a

bullet through her as she lay. Jack, if you may tell me without

betraying confidence, Arthur was the first, is not that so?" As he spoke

the poor fellow looked terribly anxious. He was in a torture of suspense

regarding the woman he loved, and his utter ignorance of the terrible

mystery which seemed to surround her intensified his pain. His very

heart was bleeding, and it took all the manhood of him--and there was a

royal lot of it, too--to keep him from breaking down. I paused before

answering, for I felt that I must not betray anything which the

Professor wished kept secret; but already he knew so much, and guessed

so much, that there could be no reason for not answering, so I answered

in the same phrase: "That's so."

"And how long has this been going on?"

"About ten days."

"Ten days! Then I guess, Jack Seward, that that poor pretty creature

that we all love has had put into her veins within that time the blood

of four strong men. Man alive, her whole body wouldn't hold it." Then,

coming close to me, he spoke in a fierce half-whisper: "What took it

out?"

I shook my head. "That," I said, "is the crux. Van Helsing is simply

frantic about it, and I am at my wits' end. I can't even hazard a guess.

There has been a series of little circumstances which have thrown out

all our calculations as to Lucy being properly watched. But these shall

not occur again. Here we stay until all be well--or ill." Quincey held

out his hand. "Count me in," he said. "You and the Dutchman will tell me

what to do, and I'll do it."

When she woke late in the afternoon, Lucy's first movement was to feel

in her breast, and, to my surprise, produced the paper which Van Helsing

had given me to read. The careful Professor had replaced it where it had

come from, lest on waking she should be alarmed. Her eye then lit on Van

Helsing and on me too, and gladdened. Then she looked around the room,

and seeing where she was, shuddered; she gave a loud cry, and put her

poor thin hands before her pale face. We both understood what that

meant--that she had realised to the full her mother's death; so we tried

what we could to comfort her. Doubtless sympathy eased her somewhat, but

she was very low in thought and spirit, and wept silently and weakly for

a long time. We told her that either or both of us would now remain with

her all the time, and that seemed to comfort her. Towards dusk she fell

into a doze. Here a very odd thing occurred. Whilst still asleep she

took the paper from her breast and tore it in two. Van Helsing stepped

over and took the pieces from her. All the same, however, she went on

with the action of tearing, as though the material were still in her

hands; finally she lifted her hands and opened them as though scattering

the fragments. Van Helsing seemed surprised, and his brows gathered as

if in thought, but he said nothing.

* * * * *

_19 September._--All last night she slept fitfully, being always afraid

to sleep, and something weaker when she woke from it. The Professor and

I took it in turns to watch, and we never left her for a moment

unattended. Quincey Morris said nothing about his intention, but I knew

that all night long he patrolled round and round the house.

When the day came, its searching light showed the ravages in poor Lucy's

strength. She was hardly able to turn her head, and the little

nourishment which she could take seemed to do her no good. At times she

slept, and both Van Helsing and I noticed the difference in her, between

sleeping and waking. Whilst asleep she looked stronger, although more

haggard, and her breathing was softer; her open mouth showed the pale

gums drawn back from the teeth, which thus looked positively longer and

sharper than usual; when she woke the softness of her eyes evidently

changed the expression, for she looked her own self, although a dying

one. In the afternoon she asked for Arthur, and we telegraphed for him.

Quincey went off to meet him at the station.

When he arrived it was nearly six o'clock, and the sun was setting full

and warm, and the red light streamed in through the window and gave more

colour to the pale cheeks. When he saw her, Arthur was simply choking

with emotion, and none of us could speak. In the hours that had passed,

the fits of sleep, or the comatose condition that passed for it, had

grown more frequent, so that the pauses when conversation was possible

were shortened. Arthur's presence, however, seemed to act as a

stimulant; she rallied a little, and spoke to him more brightly than she

had done since we arrived. He too pulled himself together, and spoke as

cheerily as he could, so that the best was made of everything.

It was now nearly one o'clock, and he and Van Helsing are sitting with

her. I am to relieve them in a quarter of an hour, and I am entering

this on Lucy's phonograph. Until six o'clock they are to try to rest. I

fear that to-morrow will end our watching, for the shock has been too

great; the poor child cannot rally. God help us all.

_Letter, Mina Harker to Lucy Westenra._

(Unopened by her.)

"_17 September._

"My dearest Lucy,--

"It seems _an age_ since I heard from you, or indeed since I wrote. You

will pardon me, I know, for all my faults when you have read all my

budget of news. Well, I got my husband back all right; when we arrived

at Exeter there was a carriage waiting for us, and in it, though he had

an attack of gout, Mr. Hawkins. He took us to his house, where there

were rooms for us all nice and comfortable, and we dined together. After

dinner Mr. Hawkins said:--