September 23
Jonathan is feeling better after another difficult night. I’m relieved that he has so much work to keep him busy. It gives him something else to think about and keeps his mind away from those terrible memories.
I’m also happy that he no longer has to worry about the responsibility of his new position. I always believed Jonathan would rise to the challenge, and now I’m proud to see him doing exactly that. He is becoming more confident every day and handling his new duties as well as anyone could.
He’ll be away all day and won’t even come home for lunch. Since I’ve finished my housework, I think I’ll take his journal into my room, lock the door, and read it again.
September 24
I couldn’t bring myself to write last night. Jonathan’s journal disturbed me far too much.
Poor Jonathan. Whether what he wrote really happened or was only the result of his illness, he must have suffered terribly.
I wonder if any of it was actually true.
Did his brain fever cause him to imagine those horrible events? Or was there really something behind them?
I suppose I may never know. I’m afraid to ask him about it.
And yet, there was that man we saw yesterday. He seemed absolutely certain that Jonathan had seen the person he described.
Perhaps the funeral brought everything back to Jonathan’s mind.
The strange thing is that Jonathan believes his own story completely. I remember what he said on our wedding day. He told me that if some serious duty ever forced him to return to those terrible memories, whether awake or dreaming, sane or insane, he would have to face them.
There seems to be a connection running through everything.
That terrible Count was coming to London.
What if he really did come here, to this enormous city filled with millions of people?
Perhaps Jonathan has some duty that he must fulfill. If that is true, we cannot run away from it.
I need to be prepared.
I’m going to get my typewriter today and begin making a complete copy of Jonathan’s journal.
That way, if someone else ever needs to see it, we will have a clear record.
And if Jonathan ever needs to explain what happened, I can help him. He won’t have to carry the whole burden himself.
If he ever feels ready to talk about it, I can ask him questions and perhaps help him make sense of what happened.
Letter from Van Helsing to Mina
September 24
Dear Mrs. Harker,
Please forgive me for writing to you, but I have some very sad news. Miss Lucy Westenra has died.
Lord Godalming has kindly given me permission to examine Lucy’s letters and papers because I am investigating some matters that I believe are extremely important.
Among her papers, I found several letters from you. They showed me how close you were to Lucy and how deeply you cared for her.
Mrs. Mina, because you loved Lucy, I am asking you to help me.
There is a great wrong that must be corrected, and there are terrible dangers that may be greater than you can imagine.
Would you allow me to visit you?
You can trust me. I am a close friend of Dr. John Seward and Lord Godalming, who was Arthur, Lucy’s fiancé.
For the moment, I must keep certain matters private.
If you give me permission, I will come to Exeter immediately. Please tell me where and when I may see you.
I have read your letters to Lucy, so I know what kind of person you are. I also know that your husband has suffered greatly.
Please do not tell him about this letter yet. I fear that doing so might make his condition worse.
Forgive me for troubling you.
Yours faithfully,
Abraham Van Helsing
Telegram from Mina to Van Helsing
September 25
Please come today on the quarter-past-ten train if you can. You may see me whenever you arrive.
Wilhelmina Harker
Mina’s Journal
September 25
I’m becoming more nervous as the time for Dr. Van Helsing’s visit gets closer.
Perhaps he will finally explain something about what happened to Jonathan.
Since he treated poor Lucy during her final illness, he should also be able to tell me what happened to her.
That must be why he is coming.
It must be about Lucy’s sleepwalking, not Jonathan.
So perhaps I really will never discover what happened to my husband.
How foolish I am.
Jonathan’s journal has filled my imagination with terrible ideas, and now everything seems connected to it.
Of course Dr. Van Helsing is coming because of Lucy.
Her sleepwalking returned, and that terrible night on the cliff must have made her seriously ill.
I had almost forgotten how sick she became afterward because I was so caught up in my own troubles.
She must have told Dr. Van Helsing about the night she wandered onto the cliff. She must also have told him that I knew about it.
Perhaps he simply wants me to explain what happened so that he can understand her illness.
I hope I did the right thing by keeping this from Mrs. Westenra. I would never forgive myself if something I did—or failed to do—had caused Lucy any harm.
I also hope Dr. Van Helsing will not blame me. I have already been through so much anxiety that I don’t think I can bear another burden right now.
Sometimes crying must be good for us. It clears the mind just as rain clears the air.
Perhaps reading Jonathan’s journal yesterday was what upset me so badly.
And this morning Jonathan left to stay away for an entire day and night. It is the first time we have been apart since our wedding.
I hope he takes care of himself.
It is almost two o’clock now. Dr. Van Helsing should arrive soon.
I won’t mention Jonathan’s journal unless he asks about it.
I’m glad I typed out my own journal. If he wants to know about Lucy, I can simply give it to him instead of trying to explain everything from memory.
Later
He has come and gone.
What a strange meeting it was.
My head is still spinning.
It all seems like a dream.
Could any of it really be true?
If I had not read Jonathan’s journal first, I would never have believed even the possibility of such things.
Poor Jonathan.
He must have suffered terribly.
I pray that none of this causes him more harm.
Perhaps I can protect him from it.
But perhaps knowing the truth could actually help him.
The worst part of his suffering may have been the uncertainty. If he knows now that his eyes and ears did not deceive him, perhaps he will finally be able to accept what happened.
Dr. Van Helsing must be a good man as well as a brilliant doctor. He is Arthur’s friend and Dr. Seward’s friend, and they brought him all the way from Holland to help Lucy.
After meeting him, I believe he is kind, intelligent, and honorable.
When he comes tomorrow, I will ask him about Jonathan.
Perhaps, with God’s help, all this suffering and fear will eventually lead to something good.
I once thought that I might enjoy becoming an interviewer. Jonathan’s friend at the Exeter News told him that memory was the most important skill for an interviewer. You had to remember almost every word people said and write it down accurately.
This was certainly a remarkable interview.
I will try to record it as accurately as I can.
It was half past two when someone knocked at the door.
I gathered my courage and waited.
A few minutes later, Mary opened the door.
“Dr. Van Helsing,” she announced.
I stood and greeted him.
He was a strongly built man of medium height, with broad shoulders and a powerful chest. His head was large and intelligent-looking, and his broad forehead gave him an impressive appearance.
His face was clean-shaven, with a strong square chin and a firm but expressive mouth. His nose was straight, with sensitive nostrils that seemed to widen whenever he became excited.
His thick reddish hair fell naturally back from his forehead.
His large dark-blue eyes were especially striking. They could look gentle and warm one moment, then serious and commanding the next.
He looked at me carefully.
“Mrs. Harker?”
I nodded.
“You were Miss Mina Murray?”
Again, I nodded.
“So you are the Mina Murray who was a close friend of that poor girl, Lucy Westenra.”
“Yes.”
“That is why I have come. I have come because of the dead.”
“Then you could not have a better reason for coming to me,” I said. “You were Lucy’s friend and tried to help her.”
I held out my hand.
He took it gently.
“I knew that a close friend of that poor girl must be a good woman,” he said. “But now I have seen it for myself.”
He gave me a polite bow.
“What exactly would you like to know?” I asked.
“I have read your letters to Lucy. Forgive me, but I had to begin my investigation somewhere. There was no one else I could ask.”
He paused.
“I know that you were with Lucy in Whitby. She sometimes kept a diary. Do not be surprised. She started it after you left and was influenced by your example.”
“I see.”
“In that diary, she described certain events involving her sleepwalking. She also suggested that you once saved her.”
He looked at me seriously.
“I am confused about what happened, Mrs. Harker. I need you to tell me everything you remember.”
“I believe I can tell you everything, Dr. Van Helsing.”
“Then you have an excellent memory for facts and details?”
“I don’t know about that. But I wrote everything down at the time.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I can show you.”
“That would be a great help to me.”
I couldn’t resist teasing him a little.
I handed him my shorthand journal.
“May I read it?” he asked.
“If you wish.”
He opened it.
For a moment, his expression changed.
Then he stood and looked at me.
“You are a very clever woman,” he said. “I already knew that Jonathan was a fortunate man, but now I see that he has all the good fortune.”
He looked down at the shorthand notes.
“Would you do me another kindness and read it aloud for me?”
He smiled apologetically.
“I cannot read shorthand.”
My little joke suddenly seemed rather silly.
I took the typed copy from my work basket and handed it to him.
“Forgive me,” I said. “I thought you wanted to ask me about Lucy. I didn’t want you to waste time waiting for me to copy everything later, so I typed it out for you.”
He took the pages.
His eyes brightened.
“You are very kind,” he said.
“May I read it now?”
“Of course. Read it while I arrange lunch. Then you can ask me whatever questions you have while we eat.”
He bowed and sat down with his back to the window.
He became completely absorbed in the pages.
I went to arrange lunch so that he could read without being disturbed.
When I returned, he was pacing rapidly around the room.
His face was full of excitement.
He suddenly came toward me and took both my hands.
“Mrs. Mina,” he said, “how can I ever thank you?”
He held up the papers.
“This is like sunlight. It has opened a door for me.”
He shook his head.
“I feel overwhelmed by what I have discovered. There is so much light, but behind it I can already see more darkness.”
He looked at me solemnly.
“You cannot understand yet. But you have helped me enormously.”
Then his expression became serious.
“Mrs. Mina, if Abraham Van Helsing can ever do anything for you or your husband, you must tell me.”
“I will.”
“It would be my greatest pleasure to help you. Not merely as a doctor, but as a friend. Everything I have learned and everything I am capable of doing will be at your service.”
He squeezed my hands gently.
“There is darkness in this world, but there are lights too. You are one of those lights.”
He smiled.
“You will have a good and happy life. Your husband is very fortunate to have you.”
“You praise me too much, Doctor. You hardly know me.”
“Do not say that.”
He shook his head.
“I have spent my entire life studying people. I have made the human brain my special field.”
He tapped the pages.
“I have read your journal. Every line tells me that you are honest.”
He continued warmly.
“I have also read your letters to Lucy. They show me how deeply you love and trust your husband.”
He smiled.
“You ask how I can know you? Good women reveal themselves through their actions every day.”
He paused.
“And your husband is a good man too. A man who truly trusts his wife must have a noble heart.”
Then his expression became concerned.
“Tell me about Jonathan. Is he completely recovered? Has the fever gone? Is he strong again?”
I realized that this was my chance.
“He has almost recovered,” I said. “But Mr. Hawkins’s death affected him badly.”
“Yes, I know.”
He looked at me.
“I have read your last two letters.”
I continued.
“I think the death caused him a terrible shock when we were in London last Thursday.”
“A shock?”
He frowned.
“And so soon after brain fever? What happened?”
“Jonathan thought he saw someone who reminded him of something terrible.”
I could no longer hold back my emotions.
The pity I felt for Jonathan, the horror in his journal, the mystery surrounding everything, and my own growing fear all came rushing over me.
I fell to my knees and raised my hands.
“Please, Doctor,” I begged. “You must help my husband. Please make him well again.”
Van Helsing immediately took my hands and helped me stand.
“Sit here,” he said gently.
He guided me to the sofa and sat beside me, still holding my hand.
“My life has been lonely,” he said quietly. “I have spent most of it working, so I have not had much time for close friendships.”
He looked at me kindly.
“Since my friend John Seward called me here, I have met many good people. I have seen courage, loyalty, and kindness.”
He sighed.
“And as I grow older, I feel the loneliness of my life more strongly.”
He looked directly into my eyes.
“Believe me, Mrs. Mina. I came here with great respect for you, and you have given me something I did not expect.”
“Hope?”
“Yes. Hope that there are still good women in the world who can make life better for everyone around them.”
He smiled.
“If your husband is suffering, then his condition is within the area of my knowledge and experience.”
He spoke firmly.
“I promise you that I will do everything I can to help him. I will do whatever I can to make him strong again and to give you both a happy life.”
Then he looked at me sternly.
“Now you must eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You are exhausted and worried. You need food.”
He smiled gently.
“Your husband would not want to see you looking so pale.”
I smiled weakly.
“So, for his sake, you must eat.”
He stood.
“You have told me everything about Lucy. We will not discuss her anymore today because it may upset you.”
He paused.
“I will stay here in Exeter tonight. I need time to think about everything you have told me.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow I may have more questions.”
He looked at me.
“Then you can tell me everything about Jonathan.”
After lunch, we returned to the drawing room.
Van Helsing sat down and looked at me.
“Now,” he said, “tell me everything about your husband.”
I suddenly became nervous.
What if he thought I was foolish?
What if he thought Jonathan was insane?
His journal was so strange that I hardly knew how to explain it.
I hesitated.
“Dr. Van Helsing,” I said, “what I have to tell you is so strange that you must promise not to laugh at me—or at my husband.”
He waited patiently.
“Since yesterday, I have been trapped in doubt. I have almost believed some very strange things, and I am afraid you will think me foolish.”
He smiled.
“My dear Mrs. Harker, if you knew how strange the matter is that brought me here, you would be the one laughing.”
He leaned forward.
“I have learned never to dismiss another person’s beliefs simply because they seem strange.”
He paused.
“I try to keep an open mind.”
He became more serious.
“Ordinary things do not trouble me. It is the extraordinary things that matter—the things that make us wonder whether we are looking at madness or reality.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“You have already made me feel much better.”
I took a deep breath.
“I want you to read something.”
“What is it?”
“It is long, but I typed it out myself. It explains what has happened to Jonathan and to me.”
I handed him the papers.
“It is a copy of his journal from his journey abroad. I cannot explain it myself. I want you to read it and decide what you believe.”
He accepted the pages.
“I promise,” he said. “I will read it tonight and come to see you and your husband tomorrow morning, if you will allow me.”
“Jonathan will be here at half past eleven.”
“Then I shall come for lunch.”
“You can take the 3:34 train afterward. It will get you to Paddington before eight.”
He looked surprised that I knew the train schedule so precisely.
He had no idea that I had memorized all the trains to and from Exeter so that I could help Jonathan whenever he needed to travel quickly.
Van Helsing took the papers and left.
I remained alone, sitting and thinking.
I hardly know what to think anymore.
Letter from Van Helsing to Mina
September 25, 6 p.m.
Dear Mrs. Mina,
I have read your husband’s extraordinary journal.
You may sleep peacefully tonight.
What he wrote is strange and terrible, but I believe it is true.
I would stake my life on it.
For others, the truth may bring terrible danger. But for Jonathan and for you, I do not believe there is anything to fear at this moment.
Your husband is a brave and remarkable man.
I know enough about human courage to recognize what he did. A man who could climb down that wall and enter that room—and then do it again—is not someone who will be permanently destroyed by a shock.
I have not even met him yet, but I am certain that his mind and his heart are sound.
So do not worry.
There are many things I need to ask him.
Today I have learned so much that my mind is still overwhelmed.
Yours faithfully,
Abraham Van Helsing
Letter from Mina to Van Helsing
September 25, 6:30 p.m.
Dear Dr. Van Helsing,
Thank you for your kind letter.
You cannot imagine how much relief it has given me.
But if Jonathan’s journal is really true, then the world is far more terrible than I ever imagined.
And if that man—that monster—is truly in London, I am terrified to think what he might do.
I have just received a telegram from Jonathan.
He is leaving Launceston on the 6:25 train tonight and should arrive here at 10:18.
So I will not be alone tonight.
Instead of coming to lunch tomorrow, would you please come for breakfast at eight?
If you need to leave quickly, you can take the 10:30 train, which will reach Paddington at 2:35.
There is no need to reply. If I hear nothing from you, I will assume you are coming.
Your grateful friend,
Mina Harker
Jonathan Harker’s Journal
September 26
I never thought I would write in this journal again.
But now I feel that I must.
When I arrived home last night, Mina had supper waiting for me.
After we ate, she told me about Van Helsing’s visit. She also told me that she had given him typed copies of both our journals and explained how worried she had been about me.
Then she showed me his letter.
He had confirmed that everything I had written was true.
The effect on me was extraordinary.
It was as though I had become a different man.
The worst thing had not been what happened in Transylvania.
It had been the doubt.
I had not known whether I had experienced something real or something caused by illness.
That uncertainty made me helpless. I felt as if I were lost in darkness and could no longer trust my own senses.
But now I know the truth.
And now I am not afraid.
Not even of the Count.
He really did come to London.
The man I saw was the Count.
But somehow he looks younger than before.
How is that possible?
Van Helsing is the man who can uncover the truth and find him.
Mina and I stayed up late talking about everything.
She was getting dressed this morning while I prepared to meet Van Helsing at his hotel.
When I entered his room and introduced myself, he seemed surprised to see me.
He took me by the shoulder and turned my face toward the light.
After examining me carefully, he said:
“But Madam Mina told me you were ill. She said you had suffered a serious shock.”
It was strangely amusing to hear my wife called “Madam Mina” by this kind old man.
I smiled.
“I was ill,” I said. “And I did suffer a shock.”
Then I smiled again.
“But your letter has already cured me.”
“How?”
“Because I was trapped in doubt.”
I explained everything to him.
“I no longer knew what was real. Everything seemed unreal, and I couldn’t even trust my own eyes and ears.”
“I didn’t know what to do, so I simply continued working as I always had.”
“But even my ordinary life stopped making sense.”
“I couldn’t trust myself anymore.”
I looked at him.
“Doctor, you cannot imagine what it is like to doubt everything, even yourself.”
Then I smiled.
“No, you probably can’t. Not with eyebrows like yours.”
He laughed.
“So, you study people’s faces?”
“Perhaps a little.”
“I learn something new every hour here.”
He smiled warmly.
“I am very happy to meet you for breakfast.”
Then his expression became serious.
“And forgive an old man for saying this, but you are extremely fortunate to have such a wife.”
I could have listened to him praise Mina all day, so I simply nodded.
“She is one of God’s finest creations,” he continued.
“She seems to have been placed in this world to remind us that goodness still exists.”
“She is honest, kind, brave, and selfless.”
He looked at me.
“And you, sir, are fortunate too.”
“I have read the letters you wrote to poor Lucy. From them, I already know something about you.”
“But after reading what happened to you, I understand you even better.”
He held out his hand.
“Will you give me your hand?”
I shook it.
“Let us be friends for the rest of our lives.”
His sincerity almost brought tears to my eyes.
“And now,” he said, “I need your help.”
“What can I do?”
“I have a great task ahead of me. Before anything else, I need information.”
He looked at me carefully.
“Tell me what happened before you went to Transylvania.”
I hesitated.
“You mean this has something to do with the Count?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can count on me completely.”
I pointed toward the papers.
“You will not have time to read them before your 10:30 train. I will prepare the entire bundle for you. You can take it with you and read it on the journey.”
After breakfast, I walked with him to the station.
As we said goodbye, he turned to me.
“If I send for you, will you come to London?”
He smiled.
“Bring Madam Mina with you.”
“We will both come whenever you need us.”
I had bought him the morning newspapers and the London papers from the previous night.
While we waited beside the train, Van Helsing casually looked through them.
Suddenly, his eyes stopped on something.
It was an article in the Westminster Gazette.
His face turned completely white.
He read the article intensely.
“Mein Gott! Mein Gott!” he whispered.
“So soon?”
“So soon?”
He seemed to have forgotten that I was standing there.
Then the whistle blew.
The train began to move.
He suddenly remembered me and leaned out of the window.
“Give my love to Madam Mina!”
“I will write to you as soon as possible!”
Then the train disappeared.
Dr. Seward’s Diary
September 26
I have learned once again that nothing is ever truly finished.
Less than a week ago, I wrote that my work was over.
Now I find myself beginning again.
Until this afternoon, I had no reason to think about everything that happened.
Renfield had returned to something close to his usual condition.
He was busy with his flies and had recently become interested in spiders, so he had caused me very little trouble.
Arthur also seems to be recovering.
I received a letter from him on Sunday. He is handling Lucy’s death remarkably well.
Quincey Morris is staying with him, and that has helped enormously. Quincey has an extraordinary ability to keep everyone’s spirits up.
He also sent me a short letter saying that Arthur was beginning to recover his old energy.
So I had been able to put my worries aside.
As for myself, I was returning to my work with the same enthusiasm I had before Lucy’s death.
I had almost begun to believe that the wound she left in me was finally healing.
But now everything has been opened again.
God alone knows where this will end.
I suspect Van Helsing has some idea.
But he never tells me everything at once.
He gives me just enough information to make me desperate for more.
He went to Exeter yesterday and stayed there overnight.
Today he returned.
At about half past five, he rushed into my room and pushed last night’s Westminster Gazette into my hands.
“What do you make of this?” he asked.
I looked at the newspaper.
I had no idea what he meant.
He took it back and pointed to an article about children being lured away in Hampstead.
At first, I saw nothing unusual.
Then I reached the part describing small puncture wounds on the children’s throats.
Suddenly, I understood.
I looked up.
“It looks like Lucy’s wounds.”
Van Helsing stared at me.
“Well?”
“There must be some connection.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whatever injured Lucy must also have injured these children.”
He shook his head.
“That is true in one sense.”
He paused.
“But it is not true in the way you think.”
“What do you mean?”
I was beginning to feel that he was taking the matter too seriously.
Four days without constant anxiety had restored some of my confidence.
But when I looked at his face, I became serious again.
“Tell me,” I said.
“I have no idea what to think. I have no evidence from which to form a conclusion.”
He stared at me.
“John, are you really telling me that you still have no idea what killed Lucy?”
“Not after everything that happened?”
“Not after everything I have told you?”
I frowned.
“I believe she died from extreme physical exhaustion after losing a dangerous amount of blood.”
Van Helsing leaned forward.
“And where did that blood go?”
I had no answer.
He sat beside me.
“You are an intelligent man, John. You reason well, and you are not afraid to make bold conclusions.”
“But you are also too prejudiced.”
“You refuse to consider anything outside the ordinary world you know.”
“Do you not think there are things in existence that you cannot understand?”
“Do you not think some people can see things that others cannot?”
He became more intense.
“Science has a weakness. It wants to explain everything.”
“When it cannot explain something, it often decides that there is nothing to explain.”
“But the world is full of strange things.”
“Some things we call new are actually very old ideas returning in a different form.”
He looked at me.
“You do not believe in things like the transfer of the body?”
“No.”
“Materialization?”
“No.”
“Astral bodies?”
“No.”
“Reading another person’s thoughts?”
“No.”
“Hypnotism?”
“Yes,” I said. “Charcot has demonstrated that well enough.”
Van Helsing smiled.
“So you accept hypnotism.”
“Yes.”
“And because science can explain part of it, you are satisfied.”
He shook his head.
“Tell me, John. How can you accept hypnotism but completely reject other possibilities simply because you do not understand them?”
“Science has already discovered things that previous generations would have considered impossible.”
“Electrical experiments alone would have seemed like witchcraft to people who lived before electricity was understood.”
“There are mysteries everywhere.”
“Why did Methuselah live for hundreds of years?”
“Why did Old Parr supposedly live to such an extraordinary age?”
“And why did poor Lucy die even after receiving blood from four men?”
He leaned closer.
“If she had lived only one more day, we might have saved her.”
“Do you really believe you understand every mystery of life and death?”
“Do you understand everything about comparative anatomy?”
“Can you explain why certain animals possess abilities that some humans seem to possess too?”
He continued without waiting for an answer.
“Why do some creatures live far longer than others?”
“Why do certain strange animals survive conditions that should kill them?”
“There are bats in South America that attack cattle and horses at night and drink their blood.”
“There are also strange bats on islands in the western seas.”
“Sailors have described them as enormous creatures hanging from trees during the day.”
“And sometimes they attack sleeping men at night.”
He looked at me.
“In the morning, those men have been found dead, completely drained of blood.”
I jumped to my feet.
“Good God!”
“Are you suggesting that Lucy was attacked by a vampire bat?”
“And that such a creature is living here in nineteenth-century London?”
Van Helsing raised his hand.
“Wait.”
Then he continued.
“Why does the tortoise live longer than many generations of human beings?”
“Why can an elephant live long enough to see kingdoms rise and fall?”
“Why do people in every age and every part of the world tell stories about certain men and women who cannot die?”
“We know that some animals can survive in conditions that seem impossible.”
“There are even stories of toads being found alive inside rocks after supposedly remaining there for thousands of years.”
“And what about the Indian fakir?”
“He can be buried alive, sealed inside a grave, and left there while crops grow above him.”
“The crops can be harvested and planted again.”
“Then the grave can finally be opened.”
“And yet the man inside is still alive.”
“He can rise from the grave and walk among the people again.”
I could hardly follow him.
His examples were coming so quickly that my mind was spinning.
I remembered how he used to teach me in Amsterdam. Back then, he would explain his point before giving me examples.
Now I had no idea where he was leading me.
“Professor,” I said, “please teach me properly.”
“I want to understand your argument.”
“At the moment, I feel like a madman stumbling through fog, jumping from one patch of solid ground to another without knowing where I am going.”
Van Helsing smiled.
“That is a very good description.”
“Then I will tell you the point.”
“What is it?”
“My point is simple.”
“You must learn to believe.”
I stared at him.
“Believe what?”
“Believe in things that you think are impossible.”
He paused.
“Let me give you an example.”
“I once heard an American define faith as the ability to believe something even when you think you know it cannot be true.”
“That is the idea I want you to understand.”
“We must keep our minds open.”
“A small piece of truth must not prevent us from accepting a much larger truth.”
“We discover one fact.”
“Good.”
“We keep it.”
“We respect it.”
“But we must never assume that one fact explains everything in the universe.”
I thought about his words.
“So you want me to stop allowing my previous beliefs to block me from considering something strange.”
“Exactly.”
“Have I understood you correctly?”
He smiled.
“You are still my favorite student.”
“Teaching you is worth the effort.”
“Now that you are willing to listen, you have already taken the first step toward understanding.”
I looked at him.
“Then you believe the wounds on those children were caused by whatever wounded Lucy?”
He stood.
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“I thought so.”
He looked at me solemnly.
“No.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“You are wrong.”
He lowered his voice.
“I wish you were right.”
“But you are not.”
His face became grim.
“It is much worse than that.”
I felt a chill run through me.
“In God’s name, Professor Van Helsing, what are you saying?”
Van Helsing collapsed into a chair.
He leaned forward and covered his face with his hands.
Then he spoke in a broken voice.
“The wounds on those children were made by Miss Lucy.”