Part 1 (1/2)
Dracula the Undead.
by Freda Warrington.
Note.
'Seven years ago we all went through the flames; and the happiness of some of us since then is, we think, well worth the pain we endured. It is an added joy to Mina and to me that our boy's birthday is the same day as that on which Quincey Morris died. His mother holds, I know, the secret belief that some of our brave friend's spirit has pa.s.sed into him. His bundle of names links all our little band of men together; but we call him Quincey.
'In the summer of this year we made a journey to Transylvania, and went over the old ground which was, and is, to us so full of vivid and terrible memories. It was almost impossible to believe that the things which we had seen with our own eyes and heard with our own ears were living truths. Every trace of all that had been was blotted out. The castle stood as before, reared high above a waste of desolation.
'When we got home we were talking of the old time - which we could all look back on without despair, for G.o.dalming and Seward are both happily married. I took the papers from the safe where they have been ever since our return so long ago. We were struck with the fact, that in all the ma.s.s of material of which the record is composed, there is hardly one authentic doc.u.ment; nothing but a ma.s.s of type-writing, except the later notebooks of Mina and Seward and myself, and Van Helsing's memorandum.
We could hardly ask anyone, even did we wish to, to accept these as proofs of so wild a story. Van Helsing summed it all up as he said, with our boy on his knee:- ' ”We want no proofs; we ask none to believe us! This boy will some day know what a brave and gallant woman his mother is.
Already he knows her sweetness and loving care; later on he will understand how some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her sake.”
Jonathan Harker'
From Dracula by Bram Stoker
Note.
Some of the doc.u.ments in the following account pa.s.sed into our hands only a considerable time after the events they describe. Nevertheless, in my type-written transcription, I have incorporated them in as close an approximation of chronological order as possible. In this way, we were able to piece together what had happened, and thus understand -too late, it is true - the manner in which, so soon after my husband wrote his postscript to our dreadful adventures, the disaster gathered and swept over us anew.
Mina Harker
Chapter One.
JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL.
22 June Van Helsing has proposed a journey to Transylvania. The very idea has given me such a shock that I have come into my study to turn the prospect over in my mind; to see if setting down my thoughts in my journal will help me to reach a decision.
It is nearly seven years since we made our last trip and destroyed the monster, Count Dracula. There is something significant, almost magical about the figure seven; it seems an anniversary of great meaning, coinciding as it does with the new century. It is like the crossing of a symbolic bridge. Quite irrational, yet very potent, so Van Helsing says. At least, that is how he explains the sudden dwelling of our thoughts, in recent months, on the events of seven years ago.
As I sit in my study, contemplating the garden through the tangle of pink climbing roses that droops across the window, I cannot help reflecting upon our happiness since Mina and I came to live in Exeter, in the house of my dear late friend Mr Hawkins, who was as much a father and mentor as a kind employer to me. We miss him still, and it feels wholly right that we have made his home our own. It was what he wished. Mina and I have had every reason for contentment (excepting only the frequent illnesses of our boy). Why, then, is it, that of late I have been plagued by memories and nightmares of Dracula?
Mina, I know, thinks that I have never been my old self since my ordeal at Castle Dracula. I have been happy; I thought the ghosts would slumber for ever. But several times in past months I have woken, sweating and trembling, from some oppressive dream of a smothering darkness, of dust-laden cobwebs and malevolent scarlet eyes.
Van Helsing says that it is a natural working of the mind, to submerge bad memories for a time, then to be ambushed by their sudden return to the surface. There is a lingering terror that the monster is not truly gone; that time has deceived one's memory. The good professor's solution is drastic. 'A journey back over the old ground will serve a dual purpose,' he said. 'First, to rea.s.sure ourselves that the evil was, indeed, utterly destroyed, to drive out sick imaginings with healthy reality. Second, to perform a Christian rite at the spot, to bless it and thus ensure - for the sake of that country and of Dracula himself, as much as our own - that the haunts of the monster are cleansed and his wretched soul truly at peace. To that end, all those of our little band who survived must go; that is, Mina and Jonathan, Lord G.o.dalming, Dr Seward, and myself.'
I confess, I do not want to go. The thought fills me with panic. But Mina is in accord with Van Helsing, even though it will mean her being separated from Quincey for several weeks. If she thinks it is important enough to leave the boy, then I cannot argue.
Well, I have made my decision. We must go; I must face my fears. Yet I have the gravest reservations. At the very thought of Transylvania, a darkness presses on my eyes and my heart tries to lift out of my chest in cold terror. A brandy. G.o.d help me hide these fears from Mina!
Memo: Must ask Joseph to cut away these roses from the window. They are overblown, they obscure the view and their thorns scratch at the window. If they are not pruned, I believe they will choke the whole house.
LETTER, MINA HARKER TO QUINCEY HARKER.
14 July, Buda-Pesth My darling Quincey, Did you receive our letter of yesterday? That was written on the train from Vienna, but we are now arrived in Buda- Pesth and the city is beautiful. Cities, I should say, since the River Danube divides the two parts. We showed you on the map before we left, do you remember? Papa and I have been strolling around some magnificent buildings of every imaginable style. I wish you were with us. There are delightful fountains everywhere, which you would love. One day, when you are older and stronger, you will travel with us, I promise.
We are staying here for two days, before travelling south and east to see the mountains of Transylvania. Then it will be time to begin our journey home. Pleasant as it is to travel, it will be so much more exciting to see you again!
I hope you are feeling stronger and eating well. The fresh summer air is good for you, so get plenty of it -only take care not to overtire yourself, or catch a chill. Be good for Mrs Seward and Nurse. Papa and your uncles Arthur, John and Abraham send love and kisses - as do I. I shall write again tomorrow - until then,
Your loving, Mama
MINA BARKER'S JOURNAL.
18 July How strange it feels to retrace the steps that Jonathan first took more than seven years ago, and in which I followed -in such dire circ.u.mstances, but with such loyal friends! - a few months after. By train to Munich, onwards to Vienna and Buda-Pesth. As well as Jonathan and myself, all our party is here; Abraham Van Helsing, Dr Seward, Lord G.o.dalming. All, that is, except brave Quincey Morris, who gave his life to save us. He is with us in spirit, I know.
We have time to look round this time, and Buda-Pesth is delightful, an eclectic mix of Gothic, baroque and cla.s.sical architecture, with water burgeoning everwhere in the form of fountains, springs and hot baths. We are staying two nights with a friend of Van Helsing, Professor Andre Kovacs of Pesth University. In a way I wish we could forge on with our journey, tiring as it would be, rather than interrupt it for social calls. Not that I feel unsocial, but I dearly wish this journey to be over as soon as possible. The past, and the drought of going back over the ground where the events took place, cast a shadow over my heart. However often I tell myself that it is all over and there is nothing to fear, I cannot shake it off!
I am sitting in an airy room with a most lovely view across the Danube. Professor Kovacs, a bachelor, is a delightful man, tall and energetic, with a fine intellect. His features are rather strong and heavy but his ready smile and brown eyes reveal a kind soul.
He has the most wonderful head of thick silver-grey hair! He lives in this house with his widowed brother Emil, and niece, Elena.
The brother I like less, though I know one should not go by first impressions. He is courteous enough, but seems always to be frowning and displeased by everything. He is an artist. Perhaps we should excuse his disagreeable demeanour as artistic temperament! At any rate, his daughter, Elena, seems unspoiled by it. She is eighteen and a most charming girl, quiet, demure and self-effacing. A little lacking in spirit, if anything.
They have another guest, a cheerful, blond young man named Miklos. He is one of the Professor's students and paying court, I gather, to Elena. Professor Kovacs treats him like a son.
We have not explained the reason for which we are making this journey to Transylvania. I believe Van Helsing has told them we are simply enjoying a tour. I do hate to tell untruths, and that would have been another reason to travel with speed and privacy.
Still, I must not let the others think I am ungrateful for this warm Hungarian hospitality!They are calling us now for dinner. I will continue this as soon as I may.
We have had a change of plan. It will inconvenience us hardly at all, except that we will be unable to talk freely amongst ourselves about certain matters as we travel - but perhaps that is just as well. It will make the journey seem less burdensome.
Last night at dinner, Emil was speaking of his intention to go to Transylvania with his daughter to paint a series of landscapes.
Professor Kovacs was making a joke of this. 'The peasants of Transylvania come to Buda-Pesth to find work,' he said, 'while all the artists of Buda-Pesth flock to Transylvania to paint!'
Van Helsing laughed. 'Is this considered a fair exchange?'