Bram Stoker's Dracula by Fred Saberhagen & James V. Hart

Author:Fred Saberhagen & James V. Hart [Saberhagen, Fred & Hart, James V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-02-20T14:59:30.281000+00:00

Picture from the book with Keanu Reeves as Jonathan Harker

"What do you make of these?" he asked his former student, squinting at him shrewdly.

Seward gave a weary shrug. "Mina—that's Miss Murray, Lucy's friend—has told me those wounds are the result of an unfortunate accident, with a safety pin, when Lucy was sleepwalking. It is true, they are very slow to heal."

From the way the professor was looking at him, Seward knew that he had given the wrong answer.

Drs. Seward and Van Helsing rejoined Holmwood in the hall. One of Lucy's maids, worried about her mistress, had gone in to sit with her for a while.

Following his ordeal, Holmwood naturally looked somewhat pale and dazed from loss of blood; and Van Helsing, speaking as if his mind were really elsewhere, advised the donor to eat heartily and get plenty of rest.

Then, halfway down the hallway, the old professor muttered, more to himself than to his companions: "The first gain is ours—but I fear for her still." And he threw a frowning glance over his shoulder in the direction of Lucy's room.

Arthur followed the pair of physicians. "My blood—did not cure her?"

Van Helsing, just reaching the head of the stairs and starting down, did not even turn his head but only laughed, somewhat bitterly, as if to himself.

Holmwood appealed silently to Seward for some explanation, but the look he received in return indicated a helplessness almost as profound as his own.

The three men continued out of the house into the formal garden, where on a happier day, about four months ago, Jonathan Harker had once waited to see his beloved Mina.

Now it was a warmly pleasant September night, for once not raining, inviting deep breathing and the contemplation of the stars. A gaslight, burning above the terrace, attracted moths and threw warm illumination on hedges and brickwork, on late-summer flowers and a small burbling fountain.

Holmwood, who before coming outdoors had detoured past the sideboard in the dining room, was now carrying a substantial amount of brandy in a snifter and fortifying himself with an occasional sip.

Van Helsing had said nothing for a little while. Now he finished lighting a cigar, threw away the match, then turned to challenge his younger colleague. "So? Can you tell me now why is this young lady bloodless?"

Seward could come up with no ready answer.

"Use your logic," Van Helsing urged him. "Think, man!"

Seward gazed up the broad flight of stairs leading to the terrace just outside Lucy's room, in which a dim light still burned. He mused: "There are those marks on her throat. Perhaps they were caused by something more than an accident with a pin, as Mina thought—possibly her major blood loss occurred there?"

Van Helsing made little meditative, grunting noises, seeming to express a qualified approval. His attitude seemed to indicate that his student was on the right track, but had not gone nearly far enough.

He said: "You were a careful student, Jack. Now you are master—or should be. Where did the blood go, Jack, eh? Come come—"

The younger doctor let out breath with a sigh.

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