"But I would walk with pleasure. I want to get away at once."
He smiled, such a soft, smooth, diabolical smile that I knew there was some
trick behind his smoothness. He said, "And your baggage?"
"I do not care about it. I can send for it some other time."
The Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesy which made me rub my
eyes, it seemed so real, "You English have a saying which is close to my
heart, for its spirit is that which rules our boyars, `Welcome the coming,
speed the parting guest.' Come with me, my dear young friend. Not an hour shall
you wait in my house against your will, though sad am I at your going, and that
you so suddenly desire it. Come!" With a stately gravity, he, with the
lamp, preceded me down the stairs and along the hall. Suddenly he stopped.
"Hark!"
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 baton 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 than 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 the last
chance I cried out, "Shut the door! I shall wait till morning." And I
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! Tonight is mine. Tomorrow 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? Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Lord, help me, and those to whom I am dear!
30 June.--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.