There was no lethal weapon at hand, but I seized a shovel which the workmen had been using to fill the cases, and lifting it high, struck, with the edge downward, at the hateful faceBut as I did so the head turned, and the eyes fell upon me, with all their blaze of basilisk horrorThe sight seemed to paralyze me, and the shovel turned in my hand and glanced from the face, merely making a deep gash above the foreheadThe shovel fell from my hand across the box, and as I pulled it away the flange of the blade caught the edge of the lid which fell over again, and hid the horrid thing from my sightThe last glimpse I had was of the bloated face, blood-stained and fixed with a grin of malice which would have held its own in the nethermost hell I thought and thought what should be my next move, but my brain seemed on fire, and I waited with a despairing feeling growing over meAs I waited I heard in the distance a gipsy song sung by merry voices coming closer, and through their song the rolling of heavy wheels and the cracking of whipsThe Szgany and the Slovaks of whom the Count had spoken were comingWith a last look around and at the box which contained the vile body, I ran from the place and gained the Count's room, determined to rush out at the moment the door should be openedWith strained ears, I listened, and heard downstairs the grinding of the key in the great lock and the falling back of the heavy doorThere must have been some other means of entry, or some one had a key for one of the locked doors Then there came the sound of many feet tramping and dying away in some passage which sent up a clanging echoI turned to run down again towards the vault, where I might find the new entrance, but at the moment there seemed to come a violent puff of wind, and the door to the winding stair blew to with a shock that set the dust from the lintels flyingWhen I ran to push it open, I found that it was hopelessly fastI was again a prisoner, and the net of doom was closing round me more closely As I write there is in the passage below a sound of many tramping feet and the crash of weights being set down heavily, doubtless the boxes, with their freight of earthThere was a sound of hammeringIt is the box being nailed downNow I can hear the heavy feet tramping again along the hall, with many other idle feet coming behind them The door is shut, the chains rattleThere is a grinding of the key in the lockI can hear the key withdrawn, then another door opens and shutsI hear the creaking of lock and bolt Hark! In the courtyard and down the rocky way the roll of heavy wheels, the crack of whips, and the chorus of the Szgany as they pass into the distance I am alone in the castle with those horrible womenFaugh! Mina is a woman, and there is nought in commonThey are devils of the Pit! I shall not remain alone with themI shall try to scale the castle wall farther than I have yet attemptedI shall take some of the gold with me, lest I want it laterI may find a way from this dreadful place And then away for home! Away to the quickest and nearest train! Away from the cursed spot, from this cursed land, where the devil and his children still walk with earthly feet! At least God's mercy is better than that of those monsters, and the precipice is steep and highAt its foot a man may sleep, as a manMina! CHAPTER 5 LETTER FROM MISS MINA MURRAY TO MISS LUCY WESTENRA 9 May My dearest Lucy, Forgive my long delay in writing, but I have been simply overwhelmed with workThe life of an assistant schoolmistress is sometimes tryingI am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the airI have been working very hard lately, because I want to keep up with Jonathan's studies, and I have been practicing shorthand very assiduouslyWhen we are married I shall be able to be useful to Jonathan, and if I can stenograph well enough I can take down what he wants to say in this way and write it out for him on the typewriter, at which also I am practicing very hard He and I sometimes write letters in shorthand, and he is keeping a stenographic journal of his travels abroadWhen I am with you I shall keep a diary in the same shop way

?O, there?s a great deal to be said on both sides of the subject,? said a genteel woman, who sat at her state-room door sewing, while her little girl and boy were playing round her?I?ve been south, and I must say I think the negroes are better off than they would be to be free ?In some respects, some of them are well off, I grant,? said the lady to whose remark she had answered?The most dreadful part of slavery, to my mind, is its outrages on the feelings and affections,?the separating of families, for example ?That is a bad thing, certainly,? said the other lady, holding up a baby?s dress she had just completed, and looking intently on its trimmings; ?but then, I fancy, it don?t occur often ?O, it does,? said the first lady, eagerly; ?I?ve lived many years in Kentucky and Virginia both, and I?ve seen enough to make any one?s heart sickSuppose, ma?am, your two children, there, should be taken from you, and sold?? ?We can?t reason from our feelings to those of this class of persons,? said the other lady, sorting out some worsteds on her lap ?Indeed, ma?am, you can know nothing of them, if you say so,? answered the first lady, warmly?I was born and brought up among themI know they do feel, just as keenly,?even more so, perhaps,?as we do The lady said ?Indeed!? yawned, and looked out the cabin window, and finally repeated, for a finale, the remark with which she had begun,??After all, I think they are better off than they would be to be free ?It?s undoubtedly the intention of Providence that the African race should be servants,?kept in a low condition,? said a grave-looking gentleman in black, a clergyman, seated by the cabin door??Cursed be Canaan; a servant of servants shall he be,? the scripture says2 ?I say, stranger, is that ar what that text means?? said a tall man, standing byIt pleased Providence, for some inscrutable reason, to doom the race to bondage, ages ago; and we must not set up our opinion against that ?Well, then, we?ll all go ahead and buy up niggers,? said the man, ?if that?s the way of Providence,?won?t we, Squire?? said he, turning to Haley, who had been standing, with his hands in his pockets, by the stove and intently listening to the conversation ?Yes,? continued the tall man, ?we must all be resigned to the decrees of ProvidenceNiggers must be sold, and trucked round, and kept under; it?s what they?s made for?Pears like this yer view ?s quite refreshing, an?t it, stranger?? said he to Haley ?I never thought on ?t,? said Haley, ?I couldn?t have said as much, myself; I ha?nt no larningI took up the trade just to make a living; if ?tan?t right, I calculated to ?pent on ?t in time, ye know ?And now you?ll save yerself the trouble, won?t ye?? said the tall man?See what ?t is, now, to know scriptureIf ye?d only studied yer Bible, like this yer good man, ye might have know?d it before, and saved ye a heap o? troubleYe could jist have said, ?Cussed be??what?s his name???and ?t would all have come right? And the stranger, who was no other than the honest drover whom we introduced to our readers in the Kentucky tavern, sat down, and began smoking, with a curious smile on his long, dry face A tall, slender young man, with a face expressive of great feeling and intelligence, here broke in, and repeated the words, ??All things whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them I suppose,? he added, ?that is scripture, as much as ?Cursed be Canaan? ?Wal, it seems quite as plain a text, stranger,? said John the drover, ?to poor fellows like us, now;? and John smoked on like a volcano The young man paused, looked as if he was going to say more, when suddenly the boat stopped, and the company made the usual steamboat rush, to see where they were landing ?Both them ar chaps parsons?? said John to one of the men, as they were going out As the boat stopped, a black woman came running wildly up the plank, darted into the crowd, flew up to where the slave gang sat, and threw her arms round that unfortunate piece of merchandise before enumerate??John, aged thirty,? and with sobs and tears bemoaned him as her husband But what needs tell the story, told too oft,?every day told,?of heart-strings rent and broken,?the weak broken and torn for the profit and convenience of the strong! It needs not to be told;?every day is telling it,?telling it, too, in the ear of One who is not deaf, though he be long silent The young man who had spoken for the cause of humanity and God before stood with folded arms, looking on this sceneHe turned, and Haley was standing at his side?My friend,? he said, speaking with thick utterance, ?how can you, how dare you, carry on a trade like this? Look at those poor creatures! Here I am, rejoicing in my heart that I am going home to my wife and child; and the same bell which is a signal to carry me onward towards them will part this poor man and his wife foreverDepend upon it, God will bring you into judgment for this The trader turned away in silence ?I say, now,? said the drover, touching his elbow, ?there?s differences in parsons, an?t there? ?Cussed be Canaan? don?t seem to go down with this ?un, does it?? Haley gave an uneasy growl ?And that ar an?t the worst on ?t,? said John; ?mabbee it won?t go down with the Lord, neither, when ye come to settle with Him, one o? these days, as all on us must, I shop reckon

For it was the voice of my dear Madam Mina that I heard Then I braced myself again to my horrid task, and found by wrenching away tomb tops one other of the sisters, the other dark oneI dared not pause to look on her as I had on her sister, lest once more I should begin to be enthrallBut I go on searching until, presently, I find in a high great tomb as if made to one much beloved that other fair sister which, like Jonathan I had seen to gather herself out of the atoms of the mistShe was so fair to look on, so radiantly beautiful, so exquisitely voluptuous, that the very instinct of man in me, which calls some of my sex to love and to protect one of hers, made my head whirl with new emotionBut God be thanked, that soul wail of my dear Madam Mina had not died out of my earsAnd, before the spell could be wrought further upon me, I had nerved myself to my wild workBy this time I had searched all the tombs in the chapel, so far as I could tellAnd as there had been only three of these Undead phantoms around us in the night, I took it that there were no more of active Undead existentThere was one great tomb more lordly than all the restHuge it was, and nobly proportionedOn it was but one word DRACULA This then was the Undead home of the King Vampire, to whom so many more were dueIts emptiness spoke eloquent to make certain what I knewBefore I began to restore these women to their dead selves through my awful work, I laid in Dracula's tomb some of the Wafer, and so banished him from it, Undead, for ever Then began my terrible task, and I dreaded itHad it been but one, it had been easy, comparativeBut three! To begin twice more after I had been through a deed of horrorFor it was terrible with the sweet Miss Lucy, what would it not be with these strange ones who had survived through centuries, and who had been strengthened by the passing of the yearsWho would, if they could, have fought for their foul lives? Oh, my friend John, but it was butcher workHad I not been nerved by thoughts of other dead, and of the living over whom hung such a pall of fear, I could not have gone onI tremble and tremble even yet, though till all was over, God be thanked, my nerve did standHad I not seen the repose in the first place, and the gladness that stole over it just ere the final dissolution came, as realization that the soul had been won, I could not have gone further with my butcheryI could not have endured the horrid screeching as the stake drove home, the plunging of writhing form, and lips of bloody foamI should have fled in terror and left my work undoneBut it is over! And the poor souls, I can pity them now and weep, as I think of them placid each in her full sleep of death for a short moment ere fadingFor, friend John, hardly had my knife severed the head of each, before the whole body began to melt away and crumble into its native dust, as though the death that should have come centuries ago had at last assert himself and say at once and loud, "I am here!" Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never more can the Count enter there Undead When I stepped into the circle where Madam Mina slept, she woke from her sleep and, seeing me, cried out in pain that I had endured too much "Come!" she said, "come away from this awful place! Let us go to meet my husband who is, I know, coming towards us She was looking thin and pale and weakBut her eyes were pure and glowed with fervourI was glad to see her paleness and her illness, for my mind was full of the fresh horror of that ruddy vampire sleep And so with trust and hope, and yet full of fear, we go eastward to meet our friends, and him, whom Madam Mina tell me that she know are coming to meet us MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL 6 November-It was late in the afternoon when the Professor and I took our way towards the east whence I knew Jonathan was comingWe did not go fast, though the way was steeply downhill, for we had to take heavy rugs and wraps with usWe dared not face the possibility of being left without warmth in the cold and the snowWe had to take some of our provisions too, for we were in a perfect desolation, and so far as we could see through the snowfall, there was not even the sign of habitationWhen we had gone about a mile, I was tired with the heavy walking and sat down to restThen we looked back and saw where the clear line of Dracula's castle cut the shop sky

For the child, though nursed so tenderly, and though life was unfolding before her with every brightness that love and wealth could give, had no regret for herself in dying In that book which she and her simple old friend had read so much together, she had seen and taken to her young heart the image of one who loved the little child; and, as she gazed and mused, He had ceased to be an image and a picture of the distant past, and come to be a living, all-surrounding realityHis love enfolded her childish heart with more than mortal tenderness; and it was to Him, she said, she was going, and to his home But her heart yearned with sad tenderness for all that she was to leave behindHer father most,?for Eva, though she never distinctly thought so, had an instinctive perception that she was more in his heart than any otherShe loved her mother because she was so loving a creature, and all the selfishness that she had seen in her only saddened and perplexed her; for she had a child?s implicit trust that her mother could not do wrongThere was something about her that Eva never could make out; and she always smoothed it over with thinking that, after all, it was mamma, and she loved her very dearly indeed She felt, too, for those fond, faithful servants, to whom she was as daylight and sunshineChildren do not usually generalize; but Eva was an uncommonly mature child, and the things that she had witnessed of the evils of the system under which they were living had fallen, one by one, into the depths of her thoughtful, pondering heartShe had vague longings to do something for them,?to bless and save not only them, but all in their condition,?longings that contrasted sadly with the feebleness of her little frame ?Uncle Tom,? she said, one day, when she was reading to her friend, ?I can understand why Jesus wanted to die for us ?Why, Miss Eva?? ?Because I?ve felt so, too ?What is it Miss Eva??I don?t understand ?I can?t tell you; but, when I saw those poor creatures on the boat, you know, when you came up and I,?some had lost their mothers, and some their husbands, and some mothers cried for their little children?and when I heard about poor Prue,?oh, wasn?t that dreadful!?and a great many other times, I?ve felt that I would be glad to die, if my dying could stop all this miseryI would die for them, Tom, if I could,? said the child, earnestly, laying her little thin hand on his Tom looked at the child with awe; and when she, hearing her father?s voice, glided away, he wiped his eyes many times, as he looked after her ?It?s jest no use tryin? to keep Miss Eva here,? he said to Mammy, whom he met a moment after?She?s got the Lord?s mark in her forehead ?Ah, yes, yes,? said Mammy, raising her hands; ?I?ve allers said soShe wasn?t never like a child that?s to live?there was allers something deep in her eyesI?ve told Missis so, many the time; it?s a comin? true,?we all sees it,?dear, little, blessed lamb!? Eva came tripping up the verandah steps to her fatherIt was late in the afternoon, and the rays of the sun formed a kind of glory behind her, as she came forward in her white dress, with her golden hair and glowing cheeks, her eyes unnaturally bright with the slow fever that burned in her veinsClare had called her to show a statuette that he had been buying for her; but her appearance, as she came on, impressed him suddenly and painfullyThere is a kind of beauty so intense, yet so fragile, that we cannot bear to look at itHer father folded her suddenly in his arms, and almost forgot what he was going to tell her ?Eva, dear, you are better now-a-days,?are you not?? ?Papa,? said Eva, with sudden firmness ?I?ve had things I wanted to say to you, a great whileI want to say them now, before I get weakerClare trembled as Eva seated herself in his lapShe laid her head on his bosom, and said, ?It?s all no use, papa, to keep it to myself any longerThe time is coming that I am going to leave youI am going, and never to come back!? and Eva sobbed ?O, now, my dear little Eva!? said StClare, trembling as he spoke, but speaking cheerfully, ?you?ve got nervous and low-spirited; you mustn?t indulge such gloomy thoughtsSee here, I?ve bought a statuette for you!? ?No, papa,? said Eva, putting it gently away, ?don?t deceive yourself!?I am not any better, I know it perfectly well,?and I am going, before longI am not nervous,?I am not low-spiritedIf it were not for you, papa, and my friends, I should be perfectly happyI want to go,?I long to go!? ?Why, dear child, what has made your poor little heart so sad? You have had everything, to make you happy, that could be given you ?I had rather be in heaven; though, only for my friends? sake, I would be willing to liveThere are a great many things here that make me sad, that seem dreadful to me; I had rather be there; but I don?t want to leave you,?it almost breaks my heart!? ?What makes you sad, and seems dreadful, Eva?? ?O, things that are done, and done all the timeI feel sad for our poor people; they love me dearly, and they are all good and kind to shop me

Miss Ophelia and the physician alone felt no encouragement from this illusive truceThere was one other heart, too, that felt the same certainty, and that was the little heart of EvaWhat is it that sometimes speaks in the soul so calmly, so clearly, that its earthly time is short? Is it the secret instinct of decaying nature, or the soul?s impulsive throb, as immortality draws on? Be it what it may, it rested in the heart of Eva, a calm, sweet, prophetic certainty that Heaven was near; calm as the light of sunset, sweet as the bright stillness of autumn, there her little heart reposed, only troubled by sorrow for those who loved her so dearly For the child, though nursed so tenderly, and though life was unfolding before her with every brightness that love and wealth could give, had no regret for herself in dying In that book which she and her simple old friend had read so much together, she had seen and taken to her young heart the image of one who loved the little child; and, as she gazed and mused, He had ceased to be an image and a picture of the distant past, and come to be a living, all-surrounding realityHis love enfolded her childish heart with more than mortal tenderness; and it was to Him, she said, she was going, and to his home But her heart yearned with sad tenderness for all that she was to leave behindHer father most,?for Eva, though she never distinctly thought so, had an instinctive perception that she was more in his heart than any otherShe loved her mother because she was so loving a creature, and all the selfishness that she had seen in her only saddened and perplexed her; for she had a child?s implicit trust that her mother could not do wrongThere was something about her that Eva never could make out; and she always smoothed it over with thinking that, after all, it was mamma, and she loved her very dearly indeed She felt, too, for those fond, faithful servants, to whom she was as daylight and sunshineChildren do not usually generalize; but Eva was an uncommonly mature child, and the things that she had witnessed of the evils of the system under which they were living had fallen, one by one, into the depths of her thoughtful, pondering heartShe had vague longings to do something for them,?to bless and save not only them, but all in their condition,?longings that contrasted sadly with the feebleness of her little frame ?Uncle Tom,? she said, one day, when she was reading to her friend, ?I can understand why Jesus wanted to die for us ?Why, Miss Eva?? ?Because I?ve felt so, too ?What is it Miss Eva??I don?t understand ?I can?t tell you; but, when I saw those poor creatures on the boat, you know, when you came up and I,?some had lost their mothers, and some their husbands, and some mothers cried for their little children?and when I heard about poor Prue,?oh, wasn?t that dreadful!?and a great many other times, I?ve felt that I would be glad to die, if my dying could stop all this miseryI would die for them, Tom, if I could,? said the child, earnestly, laying her little thin hand on his Tom looked at the child with awe; and when she, hearing her father?s voice, glided away, he wiped his eyes many times, as he looked after her ?It?s jest no use tryin? to keep Miss Eva here,? he said to Mammy, whom he met a moment after?She?s got the Lord?s mark in her forehead ?Ah, yes, yes,? said Mammy, raising her hands; ?I?ve allers said soShe wasn?t never like a child that?s to live?there was allers something deep in her eyesI?ve told Missis so, many the time; it?s a comin? true,?we all sees it,?dear, little, blessed lamb!? Eva came tripping up the verandah steps to her fatherIt was late in the afternoon, and the rays of the sun formed a kind of glory behind her, as she came forward in her white dress, with her golden hair and glowing cheeks, her eyes unnaturally bright with the slow fever that burned in her veinsClare had called her to show a statuette that he had been buying for her; but her appearance, as she came on, impressed him suddenly and painfullyThere is a kind of beauty so intense, yet so fragile, that we cannot bear to look at itHer father folded her suddenly in his arms, and almost forgot what he was going to tell her ?Eva, dear, you are better now-a-days,?are you not?? ?Papa,? said Eva, with sudden firmness ?I?ve had things I wanted to say to you, a great whileI want to say them now, before I get weakerClare trembled as Eva seated herself in his lapShe laid her head on his bosom, and said, ?It?s all no use, papa, to keep it to myself any longerThe time is coming that I am going to leave youI am going, and never to come back!? and Eva sobbed ?O, now, my dear little Eva!? said StClare, trembling as he spoke, but speaking cheerfully, ?you?ve got nervous and low-spirited; you mustn?t indulge such gloomy thoughtsSee here, I?ve bought a statuette for you!? ?No, papa,? said Eva, putting it gently away, ?don?t deceive yourself!?I am not any better, I know it perfectly well,?and I am going, before longI am not nervous,?I am not low-spiritedIf it were not for you, papa, and my friends, I should be perfectly happyI want to go,?I long to go!? ?Why, dear child, what has made your poor little heart so sad? You have had everything, to make you happy, that could be given shop you