Дракула / Dracula. Брэм Стокер

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men so noble when we women are so little worthy of them? I was able to look into Mr. Morris’s brave eyes, and I told him, “Yes, there is some one I love.”

      Ever your loving

      Lucy.

      P. S. Oh, about number Three – I needn’t tell you of number Three, need I? Besides, it was all so confused. When he entered the room, he kissed me. I am very, very happy, and I don’t know what I have done to deserve it. God Himself sent me such a lover, such a husband, and such a friend.

      Goodbye.

      Dr. Seward’s Diary

      25 May. – No appetite today. I cannot eat, cannot rest. The only cure for this is work, so I went to the asylum. There is a patient there who is of great interest to me.

      R. M. Renfield,[67] 59. Sanguine temperament;[68] great physical strength; morbidly excitable; periods of gloom, fixed ideas.[69]

      Mina Murray’s Journal

      24 July. Whitby.[70] – Lucy met me at the station, she looks sweeter and lovelier than ever. This is a lovely place. The little river, the Esk,[71] runs through a deep valley. The valley is beautifully green. The houses of the old town are all red-roofed; there is a legend that one can see a white lady in one of the windows. Between it and the town there is a church. This is the nicest spot in Whitby.

      I shall go home at the moment. Lucy with her mother will be home soon.

      1 August. – I came up here an hour ago with Lucy, and we had a most interesting talk with my old friend. Lucy looks sweetly pretty in her white dress; she has got a beautiful colour since she has been here. She is so sweet with old people; I think they all fell in love with her.

      Lucy told me all over again about Arthur and their future marriage. That made me just a little sad, for I haven’t heard from Jonathan for a whole month.

      Same day, later. – I came up here alone, for I am very sad. There was no letter for me. Where is Jonathan? Does he think of me?

      Dr. Seward’s Diary

      5 June. – The case of Renfield becomes more interesting. He has certain qualities; selfishness, secrecy, and purpose.[72] He has some scheme, but what it is I do not yet know. He loves animals and insects very much, though his love is very strange. Just now his hobby is catching flies. What will he do with them? I must watch him.

      18 June. – He has turned to spiders, and has got several very big spiders in a box. He feeds them with his flies.

      1 July. – He disgusted me much. While with him, a horrid fly came into the room, he caught it, held it for a few moments between his finger and thumb, and, before I knew what he was going to do, put it in his mouth and ate it. I scolded him for it, but he argued quietly that it was very good and very wholesome. He has evidently some deep problem in his mind, for he keeps a little notebook in which he is always writing down something. Whole pages of it are filled with figures.

      8 July. – There is a method in his madness. He has managed to get a sparrow.[73] The spiders have diminished.

      19 July. – We are progressing. My friend has now a whole colony of sparrows, and his flies and spiders almost disappeared. When I came in he ran to me and said he wanted to ask me a great favour – a very, very great favour. I asked him what it was, and he said, with a sort of rapture in his voice, “A kitten, a nice little, sleek playful kitten, I want to play with it, teach it, and feed it – and feed – and feed!”

      I could see his face; there was a warning of danger in it, for there was a sudden fierce, sidelong look which meant killing. The man is a maniac.

      20 July. – I visited Renfield very early. He was spreading out his sugar, which he had saved. I looked around for his birds, and did not see them. I asked him where they were. He replied that they had all flown away. There were a few feathers in the room and on his pillow a drop of blood. I said nothing.

      20 July, 11 a.m. – The attendant said that Renfield was very sick and disgorged a whole lot of feathers. “I am sure, doctor,” he said, “that he has eaten his birds!”

      Mina Murray’s Journal

      26 July. – I am anxious. I am unhappy about Lucy and about Jonathan. I had not heard from Jonathan for some time; but yesterday dear Mr. Hawkins, who is always so kind, sent me a letter from him. It is only a line dated from Castle Dracula, and says that he is just starting for home. That is not like Jonathan; I do not understand it, and it makes me uneasy. Then, too, Lucy, although she is so well, has lately taken to her old habit of walking in her sleep.[74] Her mother has spoken to me about it, and we have decided that I must lock the door of our room every night. Mrs. Westenra is naturally anxious about Lucy, and she tells me that her husband, Lucy’s father, had the same habit.

      27 July. – No news from Jonathan. I am getting quite uneasy about him. Lucy walks more than ever, and each night she moves about the room. Fortunately, the weather is so hot that she cannot get cold.

      3 August. – Still no news from Jonathan, not even to Mr. Hawkins. Oh, I hope he is not ill. I look at his last letter, but somehow it does not satisfy me. I think it is not his letter writing. Lucy has not walked much in her sleep the last week, but even in her sleep she is watching me. She tries the door, and if it is locked, she goes about the room and searches for the key.

      6 August. – Another three days, and no news. It is getting dreadful. Where to write? Where to go? No one has heard a word of Jonathan since that last letter. I must only pray to God for patience. Lucy is more excitable than ever.

      One day the coastguard[75] came along, with his spyglass[76] under his arm. He stopped to talk with me, as he always does, but all the time he was looking at a strange ship.

      “I can’t understand what ship it is,” he said. “Look there! Who is the captain? The ship changes about with every puff of wind.[77] We’ll hear more of this ship before this time tomorrow.”

      9 August. Whitby. – As to the strange ship… There was a dead man steering it. The man was simply fastened by his hands, tied one over the other, to a spoke of the wheel. It is a Russian ship, and is called the Demeter.[78] There were some great wooden boxes filled with mould on it. This cargo was consigned to a Whitby solicitor, Mr. S. F. Billington,[79] of 7, The Crescent,[80] who this morning went aboard and took the boxes. There was a dog on the ship, but it ran away and nobody could find it.

      Log of the Demeter[81]

      6 July. Varna to Whitby. – We finished taking in cargo, silver

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