Atlas Nightshade

Day 11

Close at hand came the howling of many wolves. It was almost as if the

sound sprang up at the rising of his hand, just as the music of a great

orchestra seems to leap under the bâton of the conductor. After a pause

of a moment, he proceeded, in his stately way, to the door, drew back

the ponderous bolts, unhooked the heavy chains, and began to draw it

open.

To my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlocked. Suspiciously, I

looked all round, but could see no key of any kind.

As the door began to open, the howling of the wolves without grew louder

and angrier; their red jaws, with champing teeth, and their blunt-clawed

feet as they leaped, came in through the opening door. I knew then that

to struggle at the moment against the Count was useless. With such

allies as these at his command, I could do nothing. But still the door

continued slowly to open, and only the Count's body stood in the gap.

Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my

doom; I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigation. There

was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and

as a last chance I cried out:--

"Shut the door; I shall wait till morning!" and covered my face with my

hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment. With one sweep of his

powerful arm, the Count threw the door shut, and the great bolts clanged

and echoed through the hall as they shot back into their places.

In silence we returned to the library, and after a minute or two I went

to my own room. The last I saw of Count Dracula was his kissing his hand

to me; with a red light of triumph in his eyes, and with a smile that

Judas in hell might be proud of.

When I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard a

whispering at my door. I went to it softly and listened. Unless my ears

deceived me, I heard the voice of the Count:--

"Back, back, to your own place! Your time is not yet come. Wait! Have

patience! To-night is mine. To-morrow night is yours!" There was a low,

sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw open the door, and saw

without the three terrible women licking their lips. As I appeared they

all joined in a horrible laugh, and ran away.

I came back to my room and threw myself on my knees. It is then so near

the end? To-morrow! to-morrow! Lord, help me, and those to whom I am

dear!

* * * * *

_30 June, morning._--These may be the last words I ever write in this

diary. I slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself

on my knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me

ready.

At last I felt that subtle change in the air, and knew that the morning

had come. Then came the welcome c**k-crow, and I felt that I was safe.

With a glad heart, I opened my door and ran down to the hall. I had seen

that the door was unlocked, and now escape was before me. With hands

that trembled with eagerness, I unhooked the chains and drew back the

massive bolts.

But the door would not move. Despair seized me. I pulled, and pulled, at

the door, and shook it till, massive as it was, it rattled in its

casement. I could see the bolt shot. It had been locked after I left the

Count.

Then a wild desire took me to obtain that key at any risk, and I

determined then and there to scale the wall again and gain the Count's

room. He might kill me, but death now seemed the happier choice of

evils. Without a pause I rushed up to the east window, and scrambled

down the wall, as before, into the Count's room. It was empty, but that

was as I expected. I could not see a key anywhere, but the heap of gold

remained. I went through the door in the corner and down the winding

stair and along the dark passage to the old chapel. I knew now well

enough where to find the monster I sought.

The great box was in the same place, close against the wall, but the lid

was laid on it, not fastened down, but with the nails ready in their

places to be hammered home. I knew I must reach the body for the key, so

I raised the lid, and laid it back against the wall; and then I saw

something which filled my very soul with horror. There lay the Count,

but looking as if his youth had been half renewed, for the white hair

and moustache were changed to dark iron-grey; the cheeks were fuller,

and the white skin seemed ruby-red underneath; the mouth was redder than

ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which trickled from the

corners of the mouth and ran over the chin and neck. Even the deep,

burning eyes seemed set amongst swollen flesh, for the lids and pouches

underneath were bloated. It seemed as if the whole awful creature were

simply gorged with blood. He lay like a filthy leech, exhausted with his

repletion. I shuddered as I bent over to touch him, and every sense in

me revolted at the contact; but I had to search, or I was lost. The

coming night might see my own body a banquet in a similar way to those

horrid three. I felt all over the body, but no sign could I find of the

key. Then I stopped and looked at the Count. There was a mocking smile

on the bloated face which seemed to drive me mad. This was the being I

was helping to transfer to London, where, perhaps, for centuries to come

he might, amongst its teeming millions, satiate his lust for blood, and

create a new and ever-widening circle of semi-demons to batten on the

helpless. The very thought drove me mad. A terrible desire came upon me

to rid the world of such a monster. There was no lethal weapon at hand,

but I seized a shovel which the workmen had been using to fill the

cases, and lifting it high, struck, with the edge downward, at the

hateful face. But as I did so the head turned, and the eyes fell full

upon me, with all their blaze of basilisk horror. The sight seemed to

paralyse me, and the shovel turned in my hand and glanced from the face,

merely making a deep gash above the forehead. The shovel fell from my

hand across the box, and as I pulled it away the flange of the blade

caught the edge of the lid which fell over again, and hid the horrid

thing from my sight. The last glimpse I had was of the bloated face,

blood-stained and fixed with a grin of malice which would have held its

own in the nethermost hell.

I thought and thought what should be my next move, but my brain seemed

on fire, and I waited with a despairing feeling growing over me. As I

waited I heard in the distance a gipsy song sung by merry voices coming

closer, and through their song the rolling of heavy wheels and the

cracking of whips; the Szgany and the Slovaks of whom the Count had

spoken were coming. With a last look around and at the box which

contained the vile body, I ran from the place and gained the Count's

room, determined to rush out at the moment the door should be opened.

With strained ears, I listened, and heard downstairs the grinding of the

key in the great lock and the falling back of the heavy door. There must

have been some other means of entry, or some one had a key for one of

the locked doors. Then there came the sound of many feet tramping and

dying away in some passage which sent up a clanging echo. I turned to

run down again towards the vault, where I might find the new entrance;

but at the moment there seemed to come a violent puff of wind, and the

door to the winding stair blew to with a shock that set the dust from

the lintels flying. When I ran to push it open, I found that it was

hopelessly fast. I was again a prisoner, and the net of doom was closing

round me more closely.

As I write there is in the passage below a sound of many tramping feet

and the crash of weights being set down heavily, doubtless the boxes,

with their freight of earth. There is a sound of hammering; it is the

box being nailed down. Now I can hear the heavy feet tramping again

along the hall, with many other idle feet coming behind them.

The door is shut, and the chains rattle; there is a grinding of the key

in the lock; I can hear the key withdraw: then another door opens and

shuts; I hear the creaking of lock and bolt.

Hark! in the courtyard and down the rocky way the roll of heavy wheels,

the crack of whips, and the chorus of the Szgany as they pass into the

distance.

I am alone in the castle with those awful women. Faugh! Mina is a woman,

and there is nought in common. They are devils of the Pit!

I shall not remain alone with them; I shall try to scale the castle wall

farther than I have yet attempted. I shall take some of the gold with

me, lest I want it later. I may find a way from this dreadful place.

And then away for home! away to the quickest and nearest train! away

from this cursed spot, from this cursed land, where the devil and his

children still walk with earthly feet!

At least God's mercy is better than that of these monsters, and the

precipice is steep and high. At its foot a man may sleep--as a man.

Good-bye, all! Mina!