"What are we to do now? Where are we to turn for help? We must have
another transfusion of blood, and that soon, or that poor girl's life won't be
worth an hour's purchase. You are exhausted already. I am exhausted too. I fear
to trust those women, even if they would have courage to submit. What are we to
do for some one who will open his veins for her?"
"What's the matter with me, anyhow?"
The voice came from the sofa across the room, and its tones brought relief
and joy to my heart, for they were those of Quincey Morris.
Van Helsing started angrily at the first sound, but his face softened and a
glad look came into his eyes as I cried out, "Quincey Morris!" and
rushed towards him with outstretched hands.
"What brought you her?" I cried as our hands met.
"I guess Art is the cause."
He handed me a telegram.-- `Have not heard from Seward for three days, and
am terribly anxious. Cannot leave. Father still in same condition. Send me word
how Lucy is. Do not delay.--Holmwood.'
"I think I came just in the nick of time. You know you have only to
tell me what to do."
Van Helsing strode forward, and took his hand, looking him straight in the
eyes as he said, "A brave man's blood is the best thing on this earth when
a woman is in trouble. You're a man and no mistake. Well, the devil may work
against us for all he's worth, but God sends us men when we want them."
Once again we went through that ghastly operation. I have not the heart to
go through with the details. Lucy had got a terrible shock and it told on her
more than before, for though plenty of blood went into her veins, her body did
not respond to the treatment as well as on the other occasions. Her struggle
back into life was something frightful to see and hear. However, the action of
both heart and lungs improved, and Van Helsing made a sub-cutaneous injection
of morphia, as before, and with good effect. Her faint became a profound
slumber. The Professor watched whilst I went downstairs with Quincey Morris,
and sent one of the maids to pay off one of the cabmen who were waiting.
I left Quincey lying down after having a glass of wine, and told the cook to
get ready a good breakfast. Then a thought struck me, and I went back to the
room where Lucy now was. When I came softly in, I found Van Helsing with a
sheet or two of note paper in his hand. He had evidently read it, and was
thinking it over as he sat with his hand to his brow. There was a look of grim
satisfaction in his face, as of one who has had a doubt solved. He handed me
the paper saying only, "It dropped from Lucy's breast when we carried her
to the bath."
When I had read it, I stook looking at the Professor, and after a pause
asked him, "In God's name, what does it all mean? Was she, or is she, mad,
or what sort of horrible danger is it?" I was so bewildered that I did not
know what to say more. Van Helsing put out his hand and took the paper, saying,
"Do not trouble about it now. Forget if for the present. You shall know
and understand it all in good time, but it will be later. And now what is it
that you came to me to say?" This brought me back to fact, and I was all
myself again.
"I came to speak about the certificate of death. If we do not act
properly and wisely, there may be an inquest, and that paper would have to be
produced. I am in hopes that we need have no inquest, for if we had it would
surely kill poor Lucy, if nothing else did. I know, and you know, and the other
doctor who attended her knows, that Mrs. Westenra had disease of the heart, and
we can certify that she died of it. Let us fill up the certificate at once, and
I shall take it myself to the registrar and go on to the undertaker."