I drove straight to Hillingham and arrived early. I left the cab at the gate and walked up the avenue alone. I knocked softly and rang the bell as quietly as I could. I did not want to disturb Lucy or her mother, and I expected one of the servants to answer.
No one came.
After waiting a while, I knocked and rang again. Still nothing.
It was already ten o’clock. I began to curse the servants for still being in bed. I knocked again, this time with much more impatience.
Still no answer.
Until then, I had blamed only the servants. But now a terrible thought entered my mind.
Could this silence mean that something dreadful had happened? Had I arrived too late at a house that had already become a house of death?
If Lucy had suffered another attack, every second might matter. I hurried around the house, looking for some way to get inside.
Every door and window was locked.
I returned to the front porch, helpless and frightened.
Then I heard the fast hoofbeats of a horse approaching. The horse stopped at the gate, and a few seconds later Van Helsing came running up the avenue.
When he saw me, he stopped and gasped.
“So it was you. You have only just arrived. How is she? Are we too late? Did you not receive my telegram?”
“I received it early this morning,” I said quickly. “I came here as soon as I could. I have not wasted a minute. But I cannot get anyone inside the house to answer me.”
Van Helsing slowly raised his hat.
“Then I fear we are too late. God’s will be done.”
For a moment he stood still. Then his usual determination returned.
“Come. If we cannot find a way in, we must make one. Every moment matters now.”
We went around to the back of the house, where there was a kitchen window protected by iron bars.
Van Helsing took a small surgical saw from his case and handed it to me.
I immediately began cutting through the bars. Before long, I had cut through three of them.
Then, using a long, thin knife, we forced the window fastening open.
Van Helsing climbed inside, and I followed.
The kitchen was empty. So were the servants’ rooms nearby.
We searched the rooms as we moved through the house. In the dining room, which was barely lit through the shutters, we found four servant women lying on the floor.
They were alive. Their heavy breathing and the strong smell of laudanum made that clear.
Van Helsing and I exchanged a look.
“We can deal with them later,” he said.
We hurried upstairs to Lucy’s room.
For a moment we stood outside the door and listened.
There was no sound.
With pale faces and shaking hands, we opened the door.
What we saw nearly stopped my heart.
Lucy and her mother were lying on the bed.
Mrs. Westenra was lying farther inside. A white sheet covered her body, but the broken window had blown part of it away. Her face was exposed, white and frozen in an expression of terror.
Beside her lay Lucy.
She looked even paler and weaker than before.
The garlic flowers that had been around her neck were lying on her mother’s chest. Lucy’s throat was completely exposed, and the two small wounds we had seen before were still there. But now they looked horribly pale and torn.
Van Helsing bent over Lucy without saying a word. His head was almost touching her chest.
Suddenly he lifted his head and listened.
Then he sprang upright.
“It is not too late!”
He turned to me.
“Quick! Bring the brandy!”
I rushed downstairs and found the bottle. Before using it, I smelled and tasted it to make sure it had not been drugged like the sherry.
The servants were still breathing, although more restlessly. I thought the effects of the drug might be wearing off.
I hurried back upstairs.
Van Helsing rubbed brandy onto Lucy’s lips, gums, wrists, and palms.
“This is all I can do for her right now,” he said. “You wake those servants. Splash their faces with cold water. Make them work hard. We need a fire, heat, and a hot bath.”
He looked at Lucy.
“She is almost as cold as her mother. We must warm her before we can do anything else.”
I went downstairs and managed to wake three of the women.
The fourth was only a young girl, and the drug had affected her much more strongly. I carried her to a sofa and let her sleep.
The other women were confused at first. As they remembered what had happened, they began crying hysterically.
I spoke sharply to them.
“Stop crying and listen to me. One death is already more than enough. If you waste time, Miss Lucy may die too.”
That frightened them into action.
Still crying, they hurried to prepare the fire and hot water.
Fortunately, the kitchen fire and boiler were still burning, so there was plenty of hot water.
We prepared a bath and carried Lucy into it.
As we rubbed her arms and legs to bring warmth back into her body, someone knocked at the front door.
One of the servants quickly put on more clothes and went to answer it.
A moment later she returned.
“There is a gentleman here with a message from Mr. Holmwood.”
“Tell him to wait,” I said. “We cannot see anyone now.”
She left, and I immediately forgot about the visitor.
I had never seen Van Helsing work with such desperate determination.
We both knew that Lucy was fighting directly against death.
During a brief pause, I told him so.
He looked at me with a terrible seriousness.
“If that were all we had to fight,” he said, “I would stop now and let her die peacefully. I see no hope for her life.”
Then he returned to his work with even greater urgency.
Slowly, the heat began to help.
Lucy’s heartbeat became slightly stronger beneath the stethoscope. Her lungs began moving more noticeably.
Van Helsing’s face brightened.
As we lifted Lucy from the bath and wrapped her in a warm sheet, he said:
“The first battle is ours! Check to the King!”
We carried Lucy into another room that had been prepared for her. We placed her in bed and forced a few drops of brandy down her throat.
I noticed that Van Helsing tied a soft silk handkerchief around her neck.
Lucy remained unconscious. She looked as weak as ever, perhaps even worse.
Van Helsing called one of the servants.
“Stay with her. Do not take your eyes off her until we return.”
Then he motioned for me to follow him downstairs.
“We must decide what to do next,” he said.
In the hall, he opened the dining-room door and carefully closed it behind us.
The shutters were open, but the blinds were already lowered, as was customary in a house where someone had died.
The room was dark, but there was enough light for us to see.
Van Helsing looked troubled.
“What are we going to do now?” he asked. “Where can we find help?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“She needs another blood transfusion, and she needs it soon. Otherwise that poor girl may not live another hour.”
He looked at me.
“You are already exhausted. So am I. I do not trust those servants enough, even if they were willing to give blood. We need someone who will open a vein for her.”
“What about me?”
The voice came from the sofa across the room.
The sound brought enormous relief to my heart.
It was Quincey Morris.
Van Helsing turned sharply, almost angrily, but his expression changed as soon as he recognized him.
“Quincey Morris!”
I rushed over and shook his hand.
“What brought you here?”
“I guess Art did.”
He handed me a telegram.
It read:
“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.”
Quincey looked at us.
“I think I arrived just in time. You only need to tell me what to do.”
Van Helsing walked over and took his hand.
“A brave man’s blood is the best thing in the world when a woman is in trouble. You are certainly a man. The devil may fight against us with everything he has, but God sends us men when we need them.”
Once again, we performed the terrible transfusion.
I cannot bring myself to describe every detail.
Lucy had already suffered a terrible shock, and this time her body reacted even more weakly than before. Even though a large amount of blood entered her veins, she struggled desperately to stay alive.
It was horrible to watch.
Eventually, however, her heart and lungs began to improve.
Van Helsing gave her another injection of morphine. It worked well, and her fainting gradually became a deep sleep.
The Professor stayed with her while I went downstairs with Quincey.
I sent one of the servants to pay the cabman who was waiting outside.
Quincey lay down after drinking a glass of wine, and I told the cook to prepare a good breakfast.
Then something occurred to me.
I went back upstairs.
When I quietly entered Lucy’s room, I found Van Helsing holding several sheets of paper.
He had clearly been reading them carefully.
He sat with one hand against his forehead, and there was a strange look of satisfaction on his face, as though he had finally solved a mystery.
He handed the paper to me.
“This fell from Lucy’s chest when we carried her to the bath.”
I read it.
When I finished, I stared at him.
“In God’s name, what does this mean? Was Lucy mad? Is she mad now? What kind of terrible danger is she in?”
I was so confused that I could barely speak.
Van Helsing took the paper from me.
“Do not worry about it now. Forget it for the moment. In time, you will understand everything. But not yet.”
Then he looked at me.
“Now, what did you come to tell me?”
His words brought my mind back to the immediate problem.
“I came to talk about the death certificate. If we do not handle this correctly, there may be an inquest, and this paper might have to be produced.”
“I hope we can avoid an inquest,” I continued. “It would be terrible for Lucy, if she survives, and unbearable if she does not.”
“We all know that Mrs. Westenra had a serious heart condition. The other doctor who treated her knows it too. We can certify that she died from heart disease.”
“We should complete the certificate now. I will take it to the registrar myself and then arrange everything with the undertaker.”
Van Helsing smiled sadly.
“Good, my friend John. Very well thought out.”
He sighed.
“Poor Lucy is surrounded by terrible enemies, but she is also surrounded by friends who love her. One, two, three strong men have already given their blood for her, and one old man has given his too.”
He looked at me warmly.
“Yes, John. I know. I am not blind. I love you all the more for it.”
“Now go.”
In the hall, I met Quincey. He had another telegram for Arthur, telling him that Mrs. Westenra had died, that Lucy had also been dangerously ill but was now somewhat better, and that Van Helsing and I were with her.
I told Quincey where I was going.
As I hurried away, he called after me.
“Jack, when you come back, can I have a private word with you?”
I nodded.
I had no trouble registering Mrs. Westenra’s death. I also arranged with the local undertaker to come that evening and make the necessary preparations.
When I returned, Quincey was waiting.
“I’ll speak with you as soon as I know how Lucy is,” I told him.
I went upstairs.
Lucy was still sleeping, and Van Helsing had apparently not moved from her side.
He put a finger to his lips, warning me not to make a sound.
He expected her to wake soon and did not want us to disturb her.
I went back downstairs and took Quincey into the breakfast room. The blinds there were still open, making the room a little less gloomy than the others.
Once we were alone, Quincey spoke.
“Jack Seward, I don’t want to interfere where I have no right to be. But this is no ordinary case.”
He paused.
“You know I loved Lucy and wanted to marry her. That’s all in the past now, but I still care deeply about her.”
“What is wrong with her?”
“The Dutchman seems to know what is happening. He said that you and he were exhausted and that Lucy needed another blood transfusion.”
“I know doctors have private discussions, and I would never expect to hear what you talk about behind closed doors. But this is different.”
“I have done my part. Haven’t I?”
“Yes,” I said.
Quincey continued.
“I suppose you and Van Helsing had already given Lucy your blood before I did.”
“Yes.”
“And I guess Art gave blood too.”
“Yes.”
Quincey thought for a moment.
“When I saw Arthur four days ago, he looked terrible. I haven’t seen a man lose his strength so quickly since I was on the Pampas.”
He looked at me seriously.
“I once had a mare I loved. One night, one of those big bats people call vampires attacked her. By morning, so much blood had been taken that she could barely stand. I had to shoot her.”
He leaned toward me.
“Jack, if you can tell me without breaking confidence, Arthur was the first one to give Lucy blood, wasn’t he?”
The poor man looked desperately anxious.
He loved Lucy deeply, and not knowing what was happening was tormenting him.
I hesitated.
I did not want to reveal anything Van Helsing wanted kept secret. But Quincey already knew so much, and had guessed almost everything.
“That’s right,” I said.
“How long has this been happening?”
“About ten days.”
“Ten days?”
He stared at me.
“Then that poor girl we all love has had the blood of four strong men put into her body during those ten days.”
He shook his head.
“Her little body couldn’t possibly hold all that.”
Then he moved closer and lowered his voice.
“What took it out of her?”
I shook my head.
“That is exactly what we cannot explain. Van Helsing is desperate, and I am completely at a loss.”
“There have been a number of strange events that have prevented us from keeping Lucy under proper watch. But that will not happen again.”
I looked at him.
“We are staying here until she is either safe or dead.”
Quincey held out his hand.
“Then count me in. You and the Dutchman tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
Lucy woke late in the afternoon.
Her first movement was to reach toward her chest.
To my surprise, she pulled out the paper Van Helsing had returned to her.
The Professor had carefully placed it back where he had found it, so that Lucy would not become frightened when she woke.
Lucy looked at Van Helsing, then at me.
Her eyes brightened when she saw us.
Then she looked around the room.
The moment she realized where she was, she shuddered and cried out.
She covered her pale face with her thin hands.
We immediately understood.
She had remembered that her mother was dead.
We tried to comfort her as best we could.
Our sympathy seemed to help a little, but she was deeply depressed. She cried quietly and weakly for a long time.
We told her that one or both of us would stay with her constantly.
That seemed to comfort her.
As evening approached, she fell into a light sleep.
Then something strange happened.
While still asleep, she took the paper from her chest and tore it in half.
Van Helsing quickly stepped over and took the pieces from her.
But Lucy continued moving her hands as if she were still tearing the paper.
Then she raised her hands and opened them, as though scattering the torn pieces into the air.
Van Helsing stared at her in surprise.
His forehead tightened with thought.
But he said nothing.
The next night, Lucy slept badly.
She was always afraid of falling asleep, and each time she woke she seemed weaker.
Van Helsing and I took turns watching her. We never left her alone.
Quincey said nothing about what he intended to do, but I knew he spent the entire night walking around the outside of the house, guarding it.
When daylight came, the truth about Lucy’s condition was impossible to ignore.
She had become terribly weak.
She could barely turn her head, and the little food she managed to eat seemed to give her no strength at all.
Sometimes she slept.
Both Van Helsing and I noticed that she looked different while asleep.
In sleep, she somehow looked stronger, although her face was more worn. Her breathing was softer.
Her mouth remained slightly open, showing pale gums pulled back from her teeth.
Her teeth looked longer and sharper than before.
Her canine teeth were especially noticeable.
But when she woke, the softness returned to her eyes. She looked like herself again, though she was clearly dying.
That afternoon she asked for Arthur.
We sent him a telegram.
Quincey went to the station to meet him.
Arthur arrived close to six o’clock.
The sun was setting, filling the room with warm red light. The light touched Lucy’s pale cheeks and gave them a little color.
When Arthur saw her, emotion nearly overwhelmed him.
For a moment, none of us could speak.
Lucy was now spending more and more time asleep or in a half-conscious state. The periods when she was awake enough to talk were becoming shorter.
But Arthur’s presence seemed to give her new strength.
She became more alert and spoke to him more brightly than she had since we arrived.
Arthur also forced himself to be cheerful.
He spoke gently and tried to make the best of the little time they had together.
It was nearly one o’clock.
Arthur and Van Helsing were still sitting with Lucy.
I was due to take over their watch in about fifteen minutes, so I recorded these thoughts on Lucy’s phonograph.
They were going to rest until six.
I feared that tomorrow would bring the end.
The shock had been too much for Lucy.
She simply could not recover.
God help us all.
Mina’s letter to Lucy was never opened.
“September 17
My dearest Lucy,
It feels like an age since I last heard from you or wrote to you. I know you will forgive me when you hear all my news.
Jonathan and I arrived safely back in Exeter. Mr. Hawkins was waiting for us in a carriage, even though he was suffering badly from gout.
He took us to his house, where he had prepared comfortable rooms for us, and we all had dinner together.
After dinner, Mr. Hawkins raised his glass.
‘My dears, I want to drink to your health and happiness. May every blessing follow you both.’
‘I have known you since you were children. I have watched you grow up with love and pride.’
He smiled at us.
‘Now I want you to make your home here with me. I have no family left. There is no one else to inherit from me, so I have left everything to you in my will.’
I cried when Jonathan and the old man shook hands.
It was one of the happiest evenings I can remember.
So now we are living in this beautiful old house.
From my bedroom and sitting room, I can see the huge elm trees around the cathedral. Their dark trunks stand out against the old golden stone.
All day long I hear the rooks above us, calling, chattering, and gossiping just like people do.
I have been busy organizing the house and settling into our new life.
Jonathan and Mr. Hawkins are busy all day too. Now that Jonathan is a partner, Mr. Hawkins wants to teach him everything about their clients and the business.
How is your dear mother?
I wish I could come to London for a day or two to see you, but I dare not leave yet. There is so much to do here, and Jonathan still needs looking after.
He is beginning to regain some weight, but his long illness left him terribly weak.
Even now, he sometimes wakes suddenly from sleep, trembling all over. I have to calm him before he can relax again.
Thank God, these attacks are becoming less frequent. I hope they will eventually disappear completely.
Now that I have told you my news, I want to hear yours.
When are you getting married? Where will the wedding be? Who will perform the ceremony? What will you wear? Will it be a large wedding or a private one?
Tell me everything, dear Lucy.
Anything that matters to you matters to me.
Jonathan asked me to send his ‘respectful duty,’ but I don’t think that is good enough from the junior partner of the important firm of Hawkins & Harker.
So, because you love me, and he loves me, and I love you with all my heart, I am sending his love instead.
Goodbye, my dearest Lucy.
May every blessing be with you.
Yours,
Mina Harker”
A report from Dr. Patrick Hennessey to Dr. John Seward, September 20
Dear Sir,
As requested, I am sending you a report on everything currently under my care.
There is something more to report about Renfield.
He had another violent episode, and this one could have ended very badly. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured.
This afternoon, a carrier’s cart carrying two men stopped at the empty house next to our grounds. You will remember that this was the house Renfield escaped to twice before.
The men stopped at our gate to ask the porter for directions because they were strangers to the area.
I happened to be looking out of my study window after dinner when one of them walked past Renfield’s room.
Renfield immediately began shouting at him from inside the room.
He called the man every filthy name he could think of.
The carrier, who seemed like a decent enough fellow, told him to shut up.
Renfield then accused him of stealing from him and trying to murder him.
He even said he would stop the man, no matter what happened to him.
I opened the window and signaled to the carrier not to pay attention.
The man looked around the building and then said:
“Good Lord, sir. I wouldn’t care what a man said to me in a madhouse. I pity you and your boss for having to live with a wild beast like that.”
He then politely asked me for directions.
I told him where the entrance to the empty house was.
He left, followed by a stream of threats and curses from Renfield.
I went downstairs to find out what had caused Renfield’s anger.
Usually he is quite well behaved, except during his violent episodes.
To my surprise, I found him completely calm and extremely friendly.
I tried to talk to him about what had just happened.
He looked at me innocently and asked what I was talking about.
He seemed to have no memory of the incident at all.
Unfortunately, this was simply another example of his cunning.
Less than half an hour later, he escaped again.
He broke through the window of his room and ran down the avenue.
I immediately called the attendants and ran after him.
I was afraid he intended to hurt someone.
My fears were justified.
The same cart was coming down the road, now loaded with several large wooden boxes.
The two carriers were sweating heavily and looked exhausted from the work of loading them.
Before I could reach Renfield, he rushed at them.
He pulled one man from the cart and began smashing the man’s head against the ground.
If I had not grabbed Renfield at that moment, I believe he would have killed him.
The second carrier jumped down and struck Renfield over the head with the heavy end of his whip.
It was a terrible blow.
Renfield seemed not to feel it.
He grabbed the second man as well and fought all three of us at once, dragging us around as though we were children.
I am no lightweight, and both carriers were strong, heavy men.
At first Renfield fought silently.
But as we finally began overpowering him and the attendants tried to put him into a straitjacket, he started screaming.
“I’ll stop them! They won’t rob me! They won’t murder me piece by piece! I’ll fight for my Lord and Master!”
He continued shouting similar nonsense.
It took a great deal of effort to drag him back into the house and lock him in the padded room.
One of the attendants, Hardy, even broke a finger during the struggle.
I treated him, and he is recovering well.
At first, the two carriers were furious.
They threatened to sue us and promised to use every legal punishment available against the asylum.
But their anger was mixed with an embarrassed apology for allowing themselves to be beaten by a supposedly weak madman.
They insisted that they would have defeated him easily if they had not already exhausted themselves carrying the heavy boxes.
They also complained that their work had left them terribly thirsty and that there had been nowhere nearby to get a drink.
I understood what they meant.
After giving each man a large drink and a sovereign, they became much friendlier.
They laughed about the attack and swore that they would gladly fight an even worse madman any day if it meant meeting such a “bloomin’ good bloke” as me.
I took down their names and addresses in case we need them later.
Their names are Jack Smollet and Thomas Snelling. They work for Harris & Sons, the moving and shipping company.
I will report anything else of interest and send you a telegram immediately if anything important happens.
Yours faithfully,
Patrick Hennessey”
Mina’s second letter to Lucy was also never opened.
“September 18
My dearest Lucy,
A terrible loss has happened to us.
Mr. Hawkins has died very suddenly.
Some people might not understand how deeply this affects us, but Jonathan and I had grown to love him. It feels as though we have lost a father.
I never knew my own father or mother, so his death has been especially painful for me.
Jonathan is devastated.
He is grieving deeply for the kind old man who had supported him all his life and, at the end, treated him like his own son.
Mr. Hawkins also left Jonathan a fortune. For people who grew up as modestly as we did, it is an enormous amount of money.
But Jonathan is troubled by something else.
He now has a huge responsibility, and it has made him doubt himself.
I keep trying to encourage him.
My belief in him seems to help him believe in himself.
But I can see how badly his past illness has affected him.
It breaks my heart that such a kind, intelligent, strong, and honorable man has been changed so much by what happened to him.
He once had the strength to rise from a simple clerk to a respected partner in only a few years, thanks to our dear old friend.
Now that same strength seems to have been badly damaged.
Forgive me for telling you about my troubles when you have so much to deal with yourself.
But I need someone to talk to.
Pretending to be strong and cheerful for Jonathan is exhausting, and I have no one here whom I can truly confide in.
We have to go to London the day after tomorrow, and I dread it.
Mr. Hawkins left instructions that he wanted to be buried in his father’s grave. Since he has no relatives, Jonathan will have to act as chief mourner.
I will try to visit you, even if only for a few minutes.
Forgive me for troubling you.
With all my love,
Mina Harker”
Only determination and habit could make me write tonight.
I am miserable.
I have never felt so tired of the world, or of life itself.
If I heard the wings of the angel of death outside this moment, I doubt I would care.
Death has already taken Lucy’s mother and Arthur’s father.
Now…
No. I must continue with my work.
I took over from Van Helsing and continued watching Lucy.
We wanted Arthur to rest too, but at first he refused.
I finally persuaded him by explaining that we would need his help during the day. If none of us rested, we would all collapse, and Lucy would suffer because of it.
Van Helsing was very gentle with him.
“Come, my child,” he said. “Come with me. You are sick and weak. You have suffered terrible grief and tremendous mental strain, and your strength has already been tested enough.”
“You must not be alone. When you are alone, your fears become worse.”
“Come to the drawing room. There is a large fire and two sofas. You can lie on one, and I will lie on the other. We can give each other comfort without even speaking. We may even sleep.”
Arthur followed him.
Before leaving, he looked back sadly at Lucy lying on the pillow, her face almost as white as the sheet.
Lucy remained completely still.
I looked around the room to make sure everything was in order.
Van Helsing had covered the window frames with garlic, just as he had in the other room.
A rough ring of garlic flowers also surrounded Lucy’s neck over the silk handkerchief she was required to wear.
Lucy was breathing heavily.
Her face looked worse than ever.
Her mouth was open, showing pale gums, and in the uncertain light her teeth looked longer and sharper than they had that morning.
The canine teeth looked especially long and pointed.
I sat beside her.
After a while she moved uneasily.
At the same moment, I heard a dull beating against the window.
I quietly walked over and looked outside through the edge of the blind.
The moon was full.
A huge bat was flying around the window. It seemed attracted by the faint light and kept striking the glass with its wings.
When I returned to my chair, I noticed that Lucy had moved.
She had pulled the garlic flowers away from her neck.
I replaced them as best I could and continued watching her.
After a while she woke.
I gave her the food Van Helsing had prescribed.
She ate only a little and did so without much interest.
There was something different about her now.
She no longer seemed to be unconsciously fighting for every breath and every bit of strength.
One strange thing caught my attention.
As soon as Lucy became conscious, she pressed the garlic flowers tightly against herself.
Whenever she fell into that deep, heavy sleep and began breathing loudly, she pushed the flowers away.
But whenever she woke, she grabbed them and held them close.
There was no doubt about it.
During the long hours that followed, she repeatedly fell asleep and woke again, and each time she behaved in exactly the same way.
At six o’clock Van Helsing came to take over my watch.
Arthur had fallen into a light sleep, and Van Helsing mercifully allowed him to continue resting.
Then Van Helsing looked at Lucy.
I heard him suddenly draw in his breath.
“Open the blind,” he whispered sharply. “I need more light.”
I opened it.
He bent over Lucy and examined her carefully.
Then he removed the garlic flowers and lifted the silk handkerchief from her throat.
He suddenly pulled back.
“Mein Gott!”
I leaned over and looked.
A cold feeling went through me.
The wounds on Lucy’s throat had completely disappeared.
For several minutes Van Helsing simply stood there staring at her.
His face became harder than I had ever seen it.
Then he turned to me.
“She is dying. It will not be long now.”
He paused.
“It matters whether she dies while she is conscious or while she sleeps.”
“Wake that poor boy. Let him come and see her before the end. He trusts us, and we promised him.”
I went to the dining room and woke Arthur.
He looked confused at first.
When he saw sunlight coming through the edges of the shutters, he thought he had slept too long.
I told him that Lucy was still asleep, but that Van Helsing and I believed she was close to death.
Arthur covered his face with his hands and sank to his knees beside the sofa.
He stayed there for a while, praying.
His shoulders shook with grief.
I took his hand and helped him up.
“Come, my dear friend. Find all the strength you have. It will be better for her.”
When we entered Lucy’s room, I saw that Van Helsing had already arranged everything carefully.
He had even brushed Lucy’s hair, spreading it across the pillow in its familiar golden waves.
When Lucy opened her eyes and saw Arthur, she whispered:
“Arthur! My love, I’m so glad you came.”
Arthur bent down to kiss her.
Van Helsing immediately stopped him.
“No. Not yet. Hold her hand. That will comfort her more.”
Arthur took Lucy’s hand and knelt beside the bed.
She looked beautiful despite her terrible illness.
Her eyes were soft and gentle.
Gradually, her eyes closed, and she fell asleep.
For a while her chest rose and fell softly.
Her breathing was quiet and weak, like that of a tired child.
Then the strange change began again.
Her breathing became heavy and harsh.
Her mouth opened.
Her pale gums pulled back, making her teeth appear longer and sharper than before.
She opened her eyes in a strange half-awake state.
Her eyes looked hard and empty.
Then she spoke in a soft, seductive voice that I had never heard from her before.
“Arthur! My love, I’m so glad you came. Kiss me!”
Arthur immediately leaned toward her.
But Van Helsing reacted before he could touch her.
He grabbed Arthur by the neck with both hands and pulled him violently backward.
With astonishing strength, he threw Arthur almost across the room.
“Not for your life!” Van Helsing shouted. “Not if you value your soul—or hers!”
He stood between them like a lion protecting its territory.
Arthur was stunned.
For a moment he did not know what to do.
Then he understood the situation and stood silently.
Van Helsing and I kept our eyes fixed on Lucy.
A flash of anger crossed her face.
Her sharp teeth snapped together.
Then her eyes closed again, and she breathed heavily.
A short time later, she opened her eyes again.
Now they were soft and gentle.
She reached out her thin, pale hand and took Van Helsing’s large hand.
She pulled it toward her and kissed it.
“My true friend,” she whispered.
Her voice was filled with deep emotion.
“My true friend, and his. Please protect him and let me have peace.”
“I swear it,” Van Helsing said solemnly.
He knelt beside her and raised his hand as if taking an oath.
Then he turned to Arthur.
“Come, my child. Take her hand. Kiss her forehead, and only once.”
Arthur obeyed.
Their eyes met.
They did not kiss.
That was how they said goodbye.
Lucy closed her eyes.
Van Helsing watched her carefully, then took Arthur by the arm and led him away.
Lucy began breathing heavily again.
Then, suddenly, her breathing stopped.
“It is over,” Van Helsing said.
“She is dead.”
I took Arthur by the arm and led him to the drawing room.
He sat down, covered his face with his hands, and began sobbing.
The sight nearly broke my heart.
I returned to Lucy’s room.
Van Helsing was standing beside her.
His expression was even more serious than before.
Something had changed in Lucy’s appearance.
Death had restored some of her beauty.
Her forehead and cheeks had regained some of their natural softness.
Even her lips were no longer completely colorless.
It almost seemed as though, now that her blood was no longer needed to keep her heart beating, some of it had returned to her face and softened the harshness of death.
I stood beside Van Helsing.
“We thought she was dying while she slept, and that she was sleeping when she died.”
I looked at Lucy.
“At least she is at peace now. It is over.”
Van Helsing turned toward me.
His voice was solemn.
“No. Sadly, it is not.”
“What do you mean?”
He shook his head.
“We cannot do anything yet.”
He looked at Lucy.
“Wait and see.”