Atlas Nightshade

Day 32

_Lucy Westenra's Diary._

_12 September._--How good they all are to me. I quite love that dear Dr.

Van Helsing. I wonder why he was so anxious about these flowers. He

positively frightened me, he was so fierce. And yet he must have been

right, for I feel comfort from them already. Somehow, I do not dread

being alone to-night, and I can go to sleep without fear. I shall not

mind any flapping outside the window. Oh, the terrible struggle that I

have had against sleep so often of late; the pain of the sleeplessness,

or the pain of the fear of sleep, with such unknown horrors as it has

for me! How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no

dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings

nothing but sweet dreams. Well, here I am to-night, hoping for sleep,

and lying like Ophelia in the play, with "virgin crants and maiden

strewments." I never liked garlic before, but to-night it is delightful!

There is peace in its smell; I feel sleep coming already. Good-night,

everybody.

_Dr. Seward's Diary._

_13 September._--Called at the Berkeley and found Van Helsing, as usual,

up to time. The carriage ordered from the hotel was waiting. The

Professor took his bag, which he always brings with him now.

Let all be put down exactly. Van Helsing and I arrived at Hillingham at

eight o'clock. It was a lovely morning; the bright sunshine and all the

fresh feeling of early autumn seemed like the completion of nature's

annual work. The leaves were turning to all kinds of beautiful colours,

but had not yet begun to drop from the trees. When we entered we met

Mrs. Westenra coming out of the morning room. She is always an early

riser. She greeted us warmly and said:--

"You will be glad to know that Lucy is better. The dear child is still

asleep. I looked into her room and saw her, but did not go in, lest I

should disturb her." The Professor smiled, and looked quite jubilant. He

rubbed his hands together, and said:--

"Aha! I thought I had diagnosed the case. My treatment is working," to

which she answered:--

"You must not take all the credit to yourself, doctor. Lucy's state this

morning is due in part to me."

"How you do mean, ma'am?" asked the Professor.

"Well, I was anxious about the dear child in the night, and went into

her room. She was sleeping soundly--so soundly that even my coming did

not wake her. But the room was awfully stuffy. There were a lot of those

horrible, strong-smelling flowers about everywhere, and she had actually

a bunch of them round her neck. I feared that the heavy odour would be

too much for the dear child in her weak state, so I took them all away

and opened a bit of the window to let in a little fresh air. You will be

pleased with her, I am sure."

She moved off into her boudoir, where she usually breakfasted early. As

she had spoken, I watched the Professor's face, and saw it turn ashen

grey. He had been able to retain his self-command whilst the poor lady

was present, for he knew her state and how mischievous a shock would be;

he actually smiled on her as he held open the door for her to pass into

her room. But the instant she had disappeared he pulled me, suddenly and

forcibly, into the dining-room and closed the door.

Then, for the first time in my life, I saw Van Helsing break down. He

raised his hands over his head in a sort of mute despair, and then beat

his palms together in a helpless way; finally he sat down on a chair,

and putting his hands before his face, began to sob, with loud, dry sobs

that seemed to come from the very racking of his heart. Then he raised

his arms again, as though appealing to the whole universe. "God! God!

God!" he said. "What have we done, what has this poor thing done, that

we are so sore beset? Is there fate amongst us still, sent down from the

pagan world of old, that such things must be, and in such way? This poor

mother, all unknowing, and all for the best as she think, does such

thing as lose her daughter body and soul; and we must not tell her, we

must not even warn her, or she die, and then both die. Oh, how we are

beset! How are all the powers of the devils against us!" Suddenly he

jumped to his feet. "Come," he said, "come, we must see and act. Devils

or no devils, or all the devils at once, it matters not; we fight him

all the same." He went to the hall-door for his bag; and together we

went up to Lucy's room.

Once again I drew up the blind, whilst Van Helsing went towards the bed.

This time he did not start as he looked on the poor face with the same

awful, waxen pallor as before. He wore a look of stern sadness and

infinite pity.

"As I expected," he murmured, with that hissing inspiration of his which

meant so much. Without a word he went and locked the door, and then

began to set out on the little table the instruments for yet another

operation of transfusion of blood. I had long ago recognised the

necessity, and begun to take off my coat, but he stopped me with a

warning hand. "No!" he said. "To-day you must operate. I shall provide.

You are weakened already." As he spoke he took off his coat and rolled

up his shirt-sleeve.

Again the operation; again the narcotic; again some return of colour to

the ashy cheeks, and the regular breathing of healthy sleep. This time I

watched whilst Van Helsing recruited himself and rested.

Presently he took an opportunity of telling Mrs. Westenra that she must

not remove anything from Lucy's room without consulting him; that the

flowers were of medicinal value, and that the breathing of their odour

was a part of the system of cure. Then he took over the care of the case

himself, saying that he would watch this night and the next and would

send me word when to come.

After another hour Lucy waked from her sleep, fresh and bright and

seemingly not much the worse for her terrible ordeal.

What does it all mean? I am beginning to wonder if my long habit of life

amongst the insane is beginning to tell upon my own brain.

_Lucy Westenra's Diary._

_17 September._--Four days and nights of peace. I am getting so strong

again that I hardly know myself. It is as if I had passed through some

long nightmare, and had just awakened to see the beautiful sunshine and

feel the fresh air of the morning around me. I have a dim

half-remembrance of long, anxious times of waiting and fearing; darkness

in which there was not even the pain of hope to make present distress

more poignant: and then long spells of oblivion, and the rising back to

life as a diver coming up through a great press of water. Since,

however, Dr. Van Helsing has been with me, all this bad dreaming seems

to have passed away; the noises that used to frighten me out of my

wits--the flapping against the windows, the distant voices which seemed

so close to me, the harsh sounds that came from I know not where and

commanded me to do I know not what--have all ceased. I go to bed now

without any fear of sleep. I do not even try to keep awake. I have grown

quite fond of the garlic, and a boxful arrives for me every day from

Haarlem. To-night Dr. Van Helsing is going away, as he has to be for a

day in Amsterdam. But I need not be watched; I am well enough to be left

alone. Thank God for mother's sake, and dear Arthur's, and for all our

friends who have been so kind! I shall not even feel the change, for

last night Dr. Van Helsing slept in his chair a lot of the time. I found

him asleep twice when I awoke; but I did not fear to go to sleep again,

although the boughs or bats or something napped almost angrily against

the window-panes.

_"The Pall Mall Gazette," 18 September._

THE ESCAPED WOLF.

PERILOUS ADVENTURE OF OUR INTERVIEWER.

_Interview with the Keeper in the Zoölogical Gardens._

After many inquiries and almost as many refusals, and perpetually using

the words "Pall Mall Gazette" as a sort of talisman, I managed to find

the keeper of the section of the Zoölogical Gardens in which the wolf

department is included. Thomas Bilder lives in one of the cottages in

the enclosure behind the elephant-house, and was just sitting down to

his tea when I found him. Thomas and his wife are hospitable folk,

elderly, and without children, and if the specimen I enjoyed of their

hospitality be of the average kind, their lives must be pretty

comfortable. The keeper would not enter on what he called "business"

until the supper was over, and we were all satisfied. Then when the

table was cleared, and he had lit his pipe, he said:--

"Now, sir, you can go on and arsk me what you want. You'll excoose me

refoosin' to talk of perfeshunal subjects afore meals. I gives the

wolves and the jackals and the hyenas in all our section their tea afore

I begins to arsk them questions."

"How do you mean, ask them questions?" I queried, wishful to get him

into a talkative humour.

"'Ittin' of them over the 'ead with a pole is one way; scratchin' of

their hears is another, when gents as is flush wants a bit of a show-orf

to their gals. I don't so much mind the fust--the 'ittin' with a pole

afore I chucks in their dinner; but I waits till they've 'ad their

sherry and kawffee, so to speak, afore I tries on with the

ear-scratchin'. Mind you," he added philosophically, "there's a deal of

the same nature in us as in them theer animiles. Here's you a-comin' and

arskin' of me questions about my business, and I that grumpy-like that

only for your bloomin' 'arf-quid I'd 'a' seen you blowed fust 'fore I'd

answer. Not even when you arsked me sarcastic-like if I'd like you to

arsk the Superintendent if you might arsk me questions. Without offence

did I tell yer to go to 'ell?"

"You did."

"An' when you said you'd report me for usin' of obscene language that

was 'ittin' me over the 'ead; but the 'arf-quid made that all right. I

weren't a-goin' to fight, so I waited for the food, and did with my 'owl

as the wolves, and lions, and tigers does. But, Lor' love yer 'art, now

that the old 'ooman has stuck a chunk of her tea-cake in me, an' rinsed

me out with her bloomin' old teapot, and I've lit hup, you may scratch

my ears for all you're worth, and won't git even a growl out of me.

Drive along with your questions. I know what yer a-comin' at, that 'ere

escaped wolf."

"Exactly. I want you to give me your view of it. Just tell me how it

happened; and when I know the facts I'll get you to say what you

consider was the cause of it, and how you think the whole affair will

end."

"All right, guv'nor. This 'ere is about the 'ole story. That 'ere wolf

what we called Bersicker was one of three grey ones that came from

Norway to Jamrach's, which we bought off him four years ago. He was a

nice well-behaved wolf, that never gave no trouble to talk of. I'm more

surprised at 'im for wantin' to get out nor any other animile in the

place. But, there, you can't trust wolves no more nor women."

"Don't you mind him, sir!" broke in Mrs. Tom, with a cheery laugh. "'E's

got mindin' the animiles so long that blest if he ain't like a old wolf

'isself! But there ain't no 'arm in 'im."

"Well, sir, it was about two hours after feedin' yesterday when I first

hear my disturbance. I was makin' up a litter in the monkey-house for a

young puma which is ill; but when I heard the yelpin' and 'owlin' I kem

away straight. There was Bersicker a-tearin' like a mad thing at the

bars as if he wanted to get out. There wasn't much people about that

day, and close at hand was only one man, a tall, thin chap, with a 'ook

nose and a pointed beard, with a few white hairs runnin' through it. He

had a 'ard, cold look and red eyes, and I took a sort of mislike to him,

for it seemed as if it was 'im as they was hirritated at. He 'ad white

kid gloves on 'is 'ands, and he pointed out the animiles to me and says:

'Keeper, these wolves seem upset at something.'

"'Maybe it's you,' says I, for I did not like the airs as he give

'isself. He didn't git angry, as I 'oped he would, but he smiled a kind

of insolent smile, with a mouth full of white, sharp teeth. 'Oh no, they

wouldn't like me,' 'e says.