| The closed gates are of heavy old oak and iron,... 937 |
[Jan. 31st, 2010|02:42 am] |
The closed gates are of heavy old oak and iron, all eaten with rust
"The estate is called Carfax, no doubt a corruption of the old Quatre Face, as the house is four sided, agreeing with the cardinal points of the compassIt contains in all some twenty acres, quite surrounded by the solid stone wall above mentionedThere are many trees on it, which make it in places gloomy, and there is a deep, dark-looking pond or small lake, evidently fed by some springs, as the water is clear and flows away in a fair-sized streamThe house is very large and of all periods back, I should say, to mediaeval times, for one part is of stone immensely thick, with only a few windows high up and heavily barred with ironIt looks like part of a keep, and is close to an old chapel or churchI could not enter it, as I had not the key of the door leading to it from the house, but I have taken with my Kodak views of it from various pointsThe house had been added to, but in a very straggling way, and I can only guess at the amount of ground it covers, which must be very greatThere are but few houses close at hand, one being a very large house only recently added to and formed into a private lunatic asylumIt is not, however, visible from the grounds
When I had finished, he said, "I am glad that it is old and bigI myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill meA house cannot be made habitable in a day, and after all, how few days go to make up a centuryI rejoice also that there is a chapel of old timesWe Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may lie amongst the common deadI seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and gayI am no longer young, and my heart, through weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirthMoreover, the walls of my castle are brokenThe shadows are many, and the wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casementsI love the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may Somehow his words and his look did not seem to accord, or else it was that his cast of face made his smile look malignant and saturnine
Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asking me to pull my papers togetherHe was some little time away, and I began to look at some of the books around meOne was an atlas, which I found opened naturally to England, as if that map had been much usedOn looking at it I found in certain places little rings marked, and on examining these I noticed that one was near London on the east side, manifestly where his new estate was situatedThe other two were Exeter, and Whitby on the Yorkshire coast
It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned"Still at your books? Good! But you must not work alwaysCome! I am informed that your supper is ready He took my arm, and we went into the next room, where I found an excellent supper ready on the tableThe Count again excused himself, as he had dined out on his being away from homeBut he sat as on the previous night, and chatted whilst I ateAfter supper I smoked, as on the last evening, and the Count stayed with me, chatting and asking questions on every conceivable subject, hour after hourI felt that it was getting very late indeed, but I did not say anything, for I felt under obligation to meet my host's wishes in every wayI was not sleepy, as the long sleep yesterday had fortified me, but I could not help experiencing that chill which comes over one at the coming of the dawn, which is like, in its way, the turn of the tideThey say that people who are near death die generally at the change to dawn or at the turn of the tideAnyone who has when tired, and tied as it were to his post, experienced this change in the atmosphere can well believe itAll at once we heard the crow of the cock coming up with preternatural shrillness through the clear morning air
Count Dracula, jumping to his feet, said, "Why there is the morning again! How remiss I am to let you stay up so longYou must make your conversation regarding my dear new country of England less interesting, so that I may not forget how time flies by us," and with a courtly bow, he quickly left |
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