| It is more dangerous that you think in this... 47 |
[Jan. 30th, 2010|02:30 am] |
It is more dangerous that you think in this country Then seizing the shaving glass, he went on, "And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischiefIt is a foul bauble of man's vanityAway with it!" And opening the window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far belowThen he withdrew without a wordIt is very annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave, unless in my watch-case or the bottom of the shaving pot, which is fortunately of metal
When I went into the dining room, breakfast was prepared, but I could not find the Count anywhereSo I breakfasted aloneIt is strange that as yet I have not seen the Count eat or drinkHe must be a very peculiar man! After breakfast I did a little exploring in the castleI went out on the stairs, and found a room looking towards the South
The view was magnificent, and from where I stood there was every opportunity of seeing itThe castle is on the very edge of a terrific precipiceA stone falling from the window would fall a thousand feet without touching anything! As far as the eye can reach is a sea of green tree tops, with occasionally a deep rift where there is a chasmHere and there are silver threads where the rivers wind in deep gorges through the forests
But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I explored furtherDoors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked and boltedIn no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available exitThe castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!
CHAPTER 3
Jonathan Harker's Journal Continued
When I found that I was a prisoner a sort of wild feeling came over meI rushed up and down the stairs, trying every door and peering out of every window I could find, but after a little the conviction of my helplessness overpowered all other feelingsWhen I look back after a few hours I think I must have been mad for the time, for I behaved much as a rat does in a trapWhen, however, the conviction had come to me that I was helpless I sat down quietly, as quietly as I have ever done anything in my life, and began to think over what was best to be doneI am thinking still, and as yet have come to no definite conclusionOf one thing only am I certainThat it is no use making my ideas known to the CountHe knows well that I am imprisoned, and as he has done it himself, and has doubtless his own motives for it, he would only deceive me if I trusted him fully with the factsSo far as I can see, my only plan will be to keep my knowledge and my fears to myself, and my eyes openI am, I know, either being deceived, like a baby, by my own fears, or else I am in desperate straits, and if the latter be so, I need, and shall need, all my brains to get through
I had hardly come to this conclusion when I heard the great door below shut, and knew that the Count had returnedHe did not come at once into the library, so I went cautiously to my own room and found him making the bedThis was odd, but only confirmed what I had all along thought, that there are no servants in the houseWhen later I saw him through the chink of the hinges of the door laying the table in the dining room, I was assured of itFor if he does himself all these menial offices, surely it is proof that there is no one else in the castle, it must have been the Count himself who was the driver of the coach that brought me hereThis is a terrible thought, for if so, what does it mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, by only holding up his hand for silence? How was it that all the people at Bistritz and on the coach had some terrible fear for me? What meant the giving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of the mountain ash?
Bless that good, good woman who hung the crucifix round my neck! For it is a comfort and a strength to me whenever I touch itIt is odd that a thing which I have been taught to regard with disfavour and as idolatrous should in a time of loneliness and trouble be of helpIs it that there is something in the essence of the thing itself, or that it is a medium, a tangible help, in conveying memories of sympathy and comfort? Some time, if it may be, I must examine this matter and try to make up my mind about itIn the meantime I must find out all I can about Count Dracula, as it may help me to understandTonight he may talk of himself, if I turn the conversation that wayI must be very careful, however, not to awake his suspicion-I have had a long talk with the |
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