Dracula / Дракула. Брэм Стокер

dead. I do not look for merriment or the bright sensual pleasure of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and merry. I am no longer young, and my heart, through arduous years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to merriment. Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken; the wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love the shade and the shadow, and prefer to be alone with my thoughts when I may.” However, it seemed that somehow his words and his appearance did not agree, or perhaps the form of his face made his smile look malevolent and gloomy.

      Presently, the Count asked me to put all my papers together, excused himself and left the room. While he was away, I began to look at some of the books around me. One was an atlas. It was opened naturally at England, as though that map had been much used. Several places were marked by little circles. One was near London on the east side, where his new estate was situated; the other two were Exeter, and Whitby on the Yorkshire coast.

      The Count was absent nearly an hour. “Still at your books?” he said when he returned. “Good! But you must not work all the time. Come, I am informed that your supper is ready.” He took my arm, and we went into the next room, where I saw an excellent supper ready on the table. The Count again excused himself, as he had dined out while he was away from home. But he sat as on the previous night, and chatted while I ate.

      After supper I smoked, as on the last evening, and the Count continued to chat with me and ask all sorts of questions. Though I was not sleepy, I felt that it was getting very late indeed but I did not say anything, for I felt I was obliged to meet my host's wishes in every way. All at once we heard the crow of a cock. It sounded supernaturally shrill in the clear morning air. Count Dracula jumped to his feet and said: “Why, there is the morning again! How thoughtless of me to let you stay up so long. You must make your conversation about my dear new country of England less interesting, so that I may not forget how time flies by us,” and, with a courtly bow, he quickly left me.

      I went into my bedroom and wrote of this day in my journal before I went to bed.

      8 May. I am glad that from the beginning I went into detail when I wrote in this book, for there is something very strange about this place and I wish I had never come here. May be this strange night-existence is telling on me. But that is not all! If there were any one to talk to, I could endure it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak with, and he! – I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place. I will write down prosaic facts; imagination must not run riot with me. If it does, I am lost.

      I only slept a few hours; I woke up and felt that I could not sleep any more, so I got up. My shaving glass hung by the window; the whole room was reflected in it. I was just beginning to shave when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count's voice: “Good-morning,” but I did not see his reflection in the glass. I jerked and cut my chin slightly, but did not notice it at the moment. I turned around and answered the Count's salutation. Then I turned to the glass again, and again there was no reflection of the Count in the mirror! But the man was close to me, and I could see him over my shoulder! The whole room behind me was reflected, but there was no sign of a man in it, except myself. This increased that vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near. At that moment I saw that the blood from the cut was trickling over my chin. I wanted to find some sticking plaster and half turned from the mirror. When the Count saw my face, his eyes blazed with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly grabbed my throat. I drew away, and his hand touched the string of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.

      “Be careful,” he said, “do not cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country.” Then he grabbed the shaving glass and with the words: “And this wretched thing has done the injury” he threw the glass out of the window. Then he left the room without a word. It is very annoying. How am I to shave? If only with the help of my watch-case.

      When I went into the dining-room, breakfast was on the table, but the Count was absent. So I breakfasted alone. It is strange that the Count has not yet shared any meal with me. He must be a very peculiar man! After breakfast I explored the castle a little. I went out on the stairs, and found a room that looked towards the South. The view from the window was magnificent. The castle is on the very edge of a terrible precipice. And there is a sea of green tree tops below. Here and there are silver threads where the rivers wind in deep gorges through the forests.

      But now I am not in the mood to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I explored further; doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked. There is no exit anywhere except from the windows in the castle walls.

      The castle is a real prison, and I am a prisoner!

      Chapter III

JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL(continued)

      The fact that I was a prisoner made me very nervous. I rushed up and down the stairs, tried every door and looked out of every window I could find. But soon I realized that it was useless. I began to think over what to do best. And I am certain of one thing – I should not tell the Count anything about my ideas. My only plan will be to keep my knowledge and my fears to myself, and my eyes open.

      As I had made this decision, I heard that the great door below had closed, and knew that the Count had returned. He did not come at once into the library, so I went cautiously to my own room and saw that he was making the bed. Later, through the crack in the door, I saw how he was laying the table in the dining-room. It showed that I was right in my suspicion that there were no servants in the house. This gave me a fright, for it meant that the Count himself had been the driver of the coach that brought me here. If so, what does it mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, just by only holding up his hand in silence? How was it that all the people at Bistritz and on the coach had some terrible fear for me? What did the giving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of the mountain ash mean? Bless that good woman who hung the crucifix round my neck! It is a comfort to me whenever I touch it. Is there something in the crucifix itself, or it is a medium in conveying memories of sympathy and comfort? Some time I must examine this matter and try to make up my mind about it. In the meantime I must find out all I can about Count because it may help me to understand. To-night he may talk of himself, if I turn the conversation that way. But I must be very careful.I do not want to awake his suspicion.

      Midnight. I had a long talk with the Count. I asked him a few questions on Transylvania history, and he talked very warmly on the subject and got excited as he talked. He spoke of everything, and especially of battles, as if he had been present at them all. He said that to a boyar the pride of his house and name is his own pride, that their glory is his glory, that their fate is his fate. It all sounded as the story of his nation: “We Szekelys[1] have a right to be proud, for in our veins flows the blood of many brave peoples who fought as the lion fights, for power. In the whirlpool of European peoples, the Ugric tribe[2] brought here the fighting spirit from Iceland, which Thor and Wodin[3] gave them. And their Berserkers[4] showed such ferocity on the seashores of Europe, Asia and even Africa that the peoples thought that the were-wolves themselves had come. Besides, when they came here, they found the Huns[5], whose warlike fury had swept the earth like a living flame, so that the dying peoples thought that in their veins ran the blood of those old witches, who were turned out from Scythia[6] and mated with the devils in the desert. Fools, fools! What devil or what witch was ever

1

Szekelys – секлеры, этническая группа венгров в Трансильвании (Румыния); мадьяры, считающиеся остатком гуннов.

2

Ugric tribe – племя угров, угорское племя – этническая группа венгров в Трансильвании.

3

Thor (Тор) – бог грома и бури; Wodin (Один) – верховный бог, отец Тора (скандинавская мифология).

4

Berserkers – берсерки, воины, главная ударная сила викингов (скандинавская мифология).

5

Huns – гунны, древние кочевые племена, переселившиеся из Азии в Европу.

6

Scythia – Скифия, древнее название юго-восточной части Европы. Занимала степи между устьями Дуная и Дона, включая степной Крым и лесостепные районы Северного Причерноморья.