"Good, oh my friend John! Well thought of! Truly Miss Lucy, if she be
sad in the foes that beset her, is at least happy in the friends thatlove her.
One, two, three, all open their veins for her, besides one old man. Ah, yes, I
know, friend John. I am not blind! I love you all the more for it! Now
go."
In the hall I met Quincey Morris, with a telegram for Arthur telling him
that Mrs. Westenra was dead, that Lucy also had been ill, but was now going on
better, and that Van Helsing and I were with her. I told him where I was going,
and he hurried me out, but as I was going said, "When you come back, Jack,
may I have two words with you all to ourselves?" I nodded in reply and
went out. I found no difficulty about the registration, and arranged with the
local undertaker to come up in the evening to measure for the coffin and to
make arrangements.
When I got back Quincey was waiting for me. I told him I would see him as
soon as I knew about Lucy, and went up to her room. She was still sleeping, and
the Professor seemingly had not moved from his seat at her side. From his
putting his finger to his lips, I gathered that he expected her to wake before
long and was afraid of fore-stalling nature. So I went down to Quincey and took
him into the breakfast room, where the blinds were not drawn down, and which
was a little more cheerful, or rather less cheerless, than the other rooms.
When we were alone, he said to me, "Jack Seward, I don't want to shove
myself in anywhere where I've no right to be, but this is no ordinary case. You
know I loved that girl and wanted to marry her, but although that's all past
and gone, I can't help feeling anxious about her all the same. What is it
that's wrong with her? The Dutchman, and a fine old fellow is is, I can see
that, said that time you two came into the room, that you must have another
transfusion of blood, and that both you and he were exhausted. Now I know well
that you medical men speak in camera, and that a man must not expect to know
what they consult about in private. But this is no common matter, and whatever
it is, I have done my part. Is not that so?"
"That's so," I said, and he went on.
"I take it that both you and Van Helsing had done already what I did
today. Is not that so?"
"That's so."
"And I guess Art was in it too. When I saw him four days ago down at
his own place he looked queer. I have not seen anything pulled down so quick
since I was on the Pampas and had a mare that
I was fond of go to grass all in a night. One of those big bats that they call
vampires had got at her in the night, and what with his gorge and the vein left
open, there wasn't enough blood in her to let her stand up, and I had to put a
bullet through her as she lay. Jack, if you may tell me without betraying
confidence, Arthur was the first, is not that so?"
As he spoke the poor fellow looked terribly anxious. He was in a torture of
suspense regarding the woman he loved, and his utter ignorance of the terrible
mystery which seemed to surround her intensified his pain. His very heart was
bleeding, and it took all the manhood of him, and there was a royal lot of it,
too, to keep him from breaking down. I paused before answering, for I felt that
I must not betray anything which the Professor wished kept secret, but already
he knew so much, and guessed so much, that there could be no reason for not answering,
so I answered in the same phrase.
"That's so."
"And how long has this been going on?"
"About ten days."
"Ten days! Then I guess, Jack Seward, that that poor pretty creature
that we all love has had put into her veins within that time the blood of four
strong men. Man alive, her whole body wouldn't hold it." Then coming close
to me, he spoke in a fierce half-whisper. "What took it out?"