Chapter 175

“Well, Professor, I know you always have a reason for what you do, but this certainly puzzles me. It is well we have no sceptic here,

or he would say that you were working some spell to keep out an evil spirit.”

“Perhaps I am!” he answered quietly as he began to make the wreath which Lucy was to wear round her neck.

We then waited whilst Lucy made her toilet for the night, and when she was in bed he came and himself fixed the wreath of garlic round

her neck. The last words he said to her were:—

“Take care you do not disturb it; and even if the room feel close, do not to-night open the window or the door.”

“I promise,” said Lucy, “and thank you both a thousand times for all your kindness to me! Oh, what have I done to be blessed with such

friends?”

As we left the house in my fly, which was waiting, Van Helsing said:—

“To-night I can sleep in peace, and sleep I want—two nights of travel, much reading in the day between, and much anxiety on the day to

follow, and a night to sit up, without to wink. To-morrow in the morning early you call for me, and we come together to see our pretty

miss, so much more strong for my ‘spell’ which I have work. Ho! ho!”

He seemed so confident that I, remembering my own confidence two nights before and with the baneful result, felt awe and vague terror.

It must have been my weakness that made me hesitate to tell it to my friend, but I felt it all the more, like unshed tears.

CHAPTER XI

Lucy Westenra’s Diary.

12 September.—How good they all are to me. I quite love that dear Dr. Van Helsing. I wonder why he was so anxious about these flowers.

He positively frightened me, he was so fierce. And yet he must have been right, for I feel comfort from them already. Somehow, I do not

dread being alone to-night, and I can go to sleep without fear. I shall not mind any flapping outside the window. Oh, the terrible

struggle that I have had against sleep so often of late; the pain of the sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep, with such

unknown horrors as it has for me! How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that

comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams. Well, here I am to-night, hoping for sleep, and lying like Ophelia in the play,

with “virgin crants and maiden strewments.” I never liked garlic before, but to-night it is delightful! There is peace in its smell; I

feel sleep coming already. Good-night, everybody.

Dr. Seward’s Diary.

13 September.—Called at the Berkeley and found Van Helsing, as usual, up to time. The carriage ordered from the hotel was waiting. The

Professor took his bag, which he always brings with him now.

Let all be put down exactly. Van Helsing and I arrived at Hillingham at eight o’clock. It was a lovely morning; the bright sunshine and

all the fresh feeling of early autumn seemed like the completion of nature’s annual work. The leaves were turning to all kinds of

beautiful colours, but had not yet begun to drop from the trees. When we entered we met Mrs. Westenra coming out of the morning room.

She is always an early riser. She greeted us warmly and said:—

“You will be glad to know that Lucy is better. The dear child is still asleep. I looked into her room and saw her, but did not go in,

lest I should disturb her.” The Professor smiled, and looked quite jubilant. He rubbed his hands together, and said:—

“Aha! I thought I had diagnosed the case. My treatment is working,” to which she answered:—

“You must not take all the credit to yourself, doctor. Lucy’s state this morning is due in part to me.”

“How you do mean, ma’am?” asked the Professor.

“Well, I was anxious about the dear child in the night, and went into her room. She was sleeping soundly—so soundly that even my coming

did not wake her. But the room was awfully stuffy. There were a lot of those horrible, strong-smelling flowers about everywhere, and

she had actually a bunch of them round her neck. I feared that the heavy odour would be too much for the dear child in her weak state,

so I took them all away and opened a bit of the window to let in a little fresh air. You will be pleased with her, I am sure.”

She moved off into her boudoir, where she usually breakfasted early. As she had spoken, I watched the Professor’s face, and saw it turn

ashen grey. He had been able to retain his self-command whilst the poor lady was present, for he knew her state and how mischievous a

shock would be; he actually smiled on her as he held open the door for her to pass into her room. But the instant she had disappeared

he pulled me, suddenly and forcibly, into the dining-room and closed the door.