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I awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt,the Count must have carried me here. As I look round this room, although it has been to me so full of fear, it is now a sort of place of safety, for nothing can be more dreadful than those awful women, who were, who are, waiting to suck my blood.
Last night the Count asked me in the gentlest tones to write three letters, one saying that my work here was nearly done, and that I should start for home within a few days,another that I was starting on the next morning from the time of the letter, and the third that I had left the castle and arrived at Bistritz.
I would have rebelled, but felt that in the present state of things it would be madness to quarrel openly with the Count while I am so absolutely in his power. And to refuse would be to excite his suspicion and to arouse his anger. He knows that I know too much, and that I must not live, lest I be dangerous to him. My only chance is to prolong my opportunities. Something may occur which will give me a chance to escape.
He explained to me that posts were few and uncertain,and that my writing now would ensure ease of mind to my friends.
I asked him what dates I should put on the letters. He calculated a minute, and then said, “The first should be June 12,the second June 19, and the third June 29.”
I know now the span of my life. God help me!
There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being able to send word home. A group of peasants, known as Szgany, have come to the castle, and are encamped in the courtyard. These are travelers, known to attach themselves as a rule to some great noble, and call themselves by his name. I shall write some letters home, and shall try to get them to have them posted.
I have written the letters: Mina's in shorthand, and I simply ask Mr. Hawkins to communicate with her. To her I have explained my situation, but without the horrors. It would shock and frighten her to death were I to expose my heart to her.
I have given the letters. I threw them through the bars of my window with a gold piece, and made what signs I could to have them posted. The man who took them pressed them to his heart and bowed, and then put them in his cap.
The Count has come. He sat down beside me, and said in his smoothest voice as he opened two letters, “The Szgany has given me these. One is from you, and to my friend Peter Hawkins. The other,” here he caught sight of the strange symbols as he opened the envelope, and the dark look came into his face, and his eyes blazed wickedly, “The other is a vile thing,an outrage upon friendship and hospitality ! It is not signed.Well! So it cannot matter to us.” And he calmly held letter and envelope in the flame of the lamp till they were consumed.
When he went out of the room I could hear the key turn softly. A minute later I went over and tried it, and the door was locked.
This morning when I woke, I thought I would provide myself with some papers and envelopes from my bag and keep them in my pocket, so that I might write in case I should get an opportunity, but again a surprise, again a shock!
Every scrap of paper was gone, and with it all my notes. I sat and pondered for a while, and then some thought occurred to me, and I opened the wardrobe where I had placed my clothes.
The suit in which I had traveled was gone, and also my overcoat and rug. I could find no trace of them anywhere. This looked like some new evil scheme.
This morning I heard without a crackling of whips and pounding and scraping of horses' feet up the rocky path beyond the courtyard. With joy I hurried to the window and saw drive into the yard two great wagons. I cried to the drivers. They looked up at me stupidly and pointed, but just then one of the Szgany came out, and seeing them pointing to my window,said something, at which they laughed. Henceforth , no effort of mine would make them even look at me. They resolutely turned away.
The wagons contained great, square boxes, with handles of thick rope. These were evidently empty by the ease with which the Slovaks handled them.
When they were all unloaded and packed in a great heap in one corner of the yard, the Slovaks were given some money by the Szgany, and spitting on it for luck, lazily went each to his horse's head. Then they were gone.
Last night the Count left me early, and locked himself into his own room. As soon as I dared, I ran up the winding stair,and looked out of the window, which opened South. I thought I would watch for the Count, for there is something going on.
The Szgany are quartered somewhere in the castle and are doing work of some kind. I know it, for now and then I hear the sounds of shovels digging.
I had been at the window somewhat less than half an hour, when I saw something coming out of the Count's window.I drew back and watched carefully, and saw the whole man emerge. It was a new shock to me to find that he had on the suit of clothes which I had worn while traveling here, and slung over his shoulder the terrible bag which I had seen the women take away.
This, then, is his new scheme of evil. He will dress as me, and appear in town posting my letters. This way, any wickedness he may do shall be attributed to me by the locals.
I ran back to my room, full of anger and fear, and feeling utterly helpless.
When a couple of hours had passed, I heard something stirring in the Count's room, something like a sharp wail quickly suppressed . And then there was silence, deep, awful silence, which chilled me.
With a beating heart, I tried the door, but I was locked in my prison, and could do nothing. I sat down and simply cried.
No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be. My fear fell from me and I decided that I must take action of some sort while the courage of the day is upon me.
I have not yet seen the Count in the daylight. Can it be that he sleeps when others wake? If I could only get into his room!I have seen him myself crawl from his window. Why should not I imitate him, and go in by his window? The chances are desperate, but my need is more desperate still. I shall risk it. At the worst it can only be death.
God help me in my task! Goodbye, Mina, if I fail!
Same day, later.
I have made the effort, and God helping me, have come safely back to this room. I must put down every detail in order.
I went while my courage was fresh straight to the window on the south side. I took off my boots, and ventured out on the desperate way. The time of my climb seemed ridiculously short till I found myself standing on the window sill . I bent down and slid feet first in through the window. Then I looked around for the Count, but made a discovery with surprise and gladness.The room was empty! It was barely furnished with odd things,which seemed to have never been used. The only other thing I found was a great heap of gold in one corner.
In another corner of the room was a heavy door. Luckily,it was open, and led through a stone passage to a circular stairway, which went steeply down. I descended and found at the bottom a dark, tunnel-like passage, through which came a deathly, sickly odor , the odor of old earth newly turned. At last, I found myself in an old ruined chapel , which had evidently been used as a graveyard . The roof was broken, and in two places were steps leading to vaults , but the ground had recently been dug over, and the earth placed in great wooden boxes,manifestly those which had been brought by the Slovaks.
I went down even into the vaults, where the dim light struggled. There I made a discovery. Nearly fifty long boxes were laid out. In one of the great boxes lay the Count!
He was either dead or asleep. I could not say which, for his eyes were open and stony , but without the glassy of death, and the cheeks had the warmth of life through all their whiteness.But there was no sign of movement, no pulse, no breath, no beating of the heart. I bent over him, and tried to find any sign of life, but in vain.
I thought he might have the keys on him. When I went to search I saw the dead eyes, and in them, dead though they were, such a look of hate, though unconscious of me or my presence, that I fled from the place, and leaving the Count's room by the window, crawled again up the castle wall. Regaining my room, I threw myself, panting, upon the bed and tried to think.
Today is the date of my last letter, and the Count has taken steps to prove that it was genuine, for again I saw him leave the castle by the same window, and in my clothes. I then went to the library, and read there till I fell asleep.
I was awakened by the Count, who looked at me as grimly as a man could look as he said, “Tomorrow, my friend, we must part. You return to your beautiful England, I to some work which may have such an end that we may never meet. Your letter home has been sent. Tomorrow I shall not be here, but all shall be ready for your journey. In the morning come the Szgany, who have some labors of their own here, and also come some Slovaks. When they have gone, my carriage shall come for you, and shall bear you to the Borgo Pass to meet another from Bukovina to Bistritz.”
I suspected him, but I could say nothing. The last I saw of Count Dracula was his kissing his hand to me, with a red light of triumph in his eyes.
When I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard a whispering at my door. I went to it softly and listened. I heard the voice of the Count.
“Back! Back to your own place! Your time is not yet come. Wait! Have patience! Tonight is mine. Tomorrow night is yours!”
There was a low, sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw open the door and saw the three terrible women licking their lips. As I appeared, they all joined in a horrible laugh, and ran away.
I came back to my room and threw myself on my knees. Is it then so near the end? Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
These may be the last words I ever write in this diary. I slept till just before the dawn, then I awoke with a wild desire to obtain the key at any risk.
Without a pause I rushed up to the east window, and climbed down the wall, as before, into the Count's room. I knew now well enough where to find the monster I sought. The great box was in the same place, close against the wall, but the lid was laid on it, not fastened down, but with the nails ready in their places to be hammered home.
I knew I must search the body for the key, so I raised the lid, and laid it back against the wall. And then I saw something which filled my very soul with horror. There lay the Count, but looking as if his youth had been half restored. For the white hair and moustache were changed to dark iron-grey. The cheeks were fuller, and the white skin seemed ruby -red underneath. The mouth was redder than ever, for on the lips were drops of fresh blood, which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran down over the chin and neck.
I shook as I bent over to touch him, and every sense in me revolted at the contact, but I had to search, or I was lost. I felt all over the body, but no sign could I find of the key. Then I stopped and looked at the Count. There was a mocking smile which seemed to drive me mad. This was the being I was helping to transfer to London, where, perhaps, for centuries to come he might, amongst its teeming millions, satisfy his lust for blood, and create a new and ever-widening circle of evil beings like himself.
A terrible desire came upon me to rid the world of such a monster. 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 face. But as I did so, the head turned,and the eyes fell upon me, with all their blaze of horror. The sight seemed to paralyze me, and the shovel turned in my hand and glanced from the face, merely making a deep cut above the forehead.
I climbed back to my room, where 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 me. As I waited, I could hear that the Szgany and the Slovaks of whom the Count had spoken were coming. I could feel the net of doom 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 earth. After a while,I see the wagons fully loaded in the courtyard. Moments later,they begin driving away and pass into the distance.
I am alone in the castle with those horrible women. I shall not remain alone with them. I shall try to scale the castle wall farther than I have yet attempted. I shall take some of the gold with me, in case I need it later.
I may find a way from this dreadful place. Away from the cursed spot, from this cursed land, where the devil and his children still walk with earthly feet!
Goodbye, all. Mina!
openly /ˈəʊpənlɪ/ adv. 公然地，不隐瞒地
prolong /prəˈlɒŋ/ vt. 拖延，延长
encamp /ɪnˈkæmp/ vt. 扎营
vile /vaɪl/ adj. 卑鄙的，可憎的
outrage /ˌaʊˈtreɪdʒ/ n. 愤怒，侮辱
hospitality /ˌhɒspɪˈtælətɪ/ n. 盛情，好客
calmly 一词，表现出伯爵面对主人公所写的密信，非常镇定自若，足见他的阴险狡诈，说明他心中谋划的阴谋非常危险可怕
scrap /skræp/ n. 碎片，残余物
ponder /ˈpɒndə/ vi. 沉思，考虑
wardrobe /ˈwɔ:drəʊb/ n. 衣柜
crackling /ˈkræklɪŋ/ n. 噼噼啪啪的响声
henceforth /ˌhensˈfɔ:θ/ adv. 自此以后，今后
resolutely /ˈrezəlu:tlɪ/ adv. 毅然地，决然地
shovel /ˈʃʌvəl/ n. 铲，铁铲
sling /slɪŋ/ vt. 悬挂；投掷
utterly /ˈʌtəlɪ/ adv. 全然地，彻底地
suppress /səˈpres/ vt. 镇压，抑制
ridiculously /rɪˈdɪkjʊləslɪ/ adv. 可笑地，滑稽地
sill /sɪl/ n. 窗台
sickly /ˈsɪklɪ/ adj. 令人作呕的；有病的，苍白的
odor /ˈəʊdə/ n. 气味；名声
newly /ˈnju:lɪ/ adv. 重新，最近；以新的方式
chapel /ˈtʃæpəl/ n. 小教堂
graveyard /ˈɡreɪvjɑ:d/ n. 墓地
vault /vɔ:lt/ n. （教堂的）地下墓室
stony /ˈstəʊnɪ/ adj. 冷酷的，无情的
glassy /ˈɡlɑ:sɪ/ adj. 无神的，呆滞的
regain /rɪˈɡeɪn/ vt. 恢复，回到
panting /pæntɪŋ/ adj. 气喘吁吁的
grimly /ˈɡrɪmlɪ/ adv. 冷酷地，可怕地
ripple /ˈrɪpl/ n. 微波似的轻柔起伏声
ruby /ˈru:bɪ/ n. 红宝石
The mouth... chin and neck. 此句暗示伯爵通过吸食活人的鲜血而补充能量、延续生命。他的阴谋——假扮乔纳森离开古堡的计划，即将得逞。这一句对吸血鬼淋漓尽致的描写，让读者读来都不禁感到可怕，达到了引人入胜的效果
mocking /ˈmɒkɪŋ/ adj. 嘲弄的，愚弄的
teeming /ti:mɪŋ/ adj. 丰富的
lust /lʌst/ n. 欲望；活力
paralyze /ˈpærəlaɪz/ vt. 使瘫痪，麻痹
doom /du:m/ n. 厄运，毁灭
tramp /træmp/ vi. 重步行走，踏
doubtless /ˈdaʊtləs/ adv. 无疑地，确定地
earthly /ˈɜ:θlɪ/ adj. 现世的，世俗的