Sherlock Holmes and the Affair in Transylvania by Gerry O'Hara

Author:Gerry O'Hara
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sherlock Holmes, mystery, crime, british crime, sherlock holmes short fiction, dracula, count dracula
ISBN: 9781780920375
Publisher: Andrews UK Limited 2011
Published: 2011-10-07T00:00:00+00:00

At length she opened her eyes and stared at us each in turn. Now she clutched the flowers to her throat but when, after a few moments, she sank into a shallow sleep she seemed to want to tear them away again. Holmes restrained her gently. In the long hours that passed she had many spells of sleeping and waking. Each time she would clutch the flowers to her on waking and then, in her sleep, attempt to push them away.

I must confess I was dozing when Holmes tapped me lightly on the shoulder. When I opened my eyes he pointed to her throat. The pin-prick wounds had entirely disappeared. I nodded in silent agreement. It was obvious that she was fading away.

“It will not be long now,” I told my friend.

Holmes wakened Sandor who was slumped in a chair by the window. He knew at once that the end was near. He crossed himself and forced a brave smile.

“Summon all your fortitude,” Holmes told him quietly.

As we returned to her bedside, Lucy awakened.

She looked up at her fiancé, a dream-like expression on her face.

“Sandor, my love,” she whispered.

He bent down to kiss her but Holmes stayed him with his hand.

“No, not yet. Hold her hand, it will comfort her more.”

The young man did as he was told. Gradually her eyes closed and she slept once more. For a time her breast heaved softly and her breath came and went like a tired child’s. And then insensibly there came a strange transformation in her. The breathing became heavy, the mouth opened and the pale gums, drawn back, made the teeth look longer and sharper than ever. In a sort of half-sleeping, half-waking, vague, unconscious way she opened her eyes, which were now dull and hard at once.

She spoke in a soft, voluptuous voice, such as I had never heard from her lips:

“Sandor, oh, my love, come to me! Kiss me!”

The young man bent forward eagerly but at that moment, Holmes, who like me, had been startled by her voice, held him back. “Not for your life!” he said. “Not for your living soul and hers!”

Sandor stared at him, aghast. Holmes pointed to Lucy. A spasm of rage contorted her features most evilly. Her sharp teeth clamped together in an awful grimace. Then her eyes closed and she breathed heavily for a few seconds until, suddenly, her breathing ceased.

“It is all over,” I said.

“It has only just begun,” said Holmes.

The young man, uncomprehending, sank to his knees by her bedside, sobbing inconsolably.

Holmes was staring at the poor girl. He drew a quick hiss of breath and I followed his gaze.

Some change had come over her body. Death had given back part of her beauty, for her brow and cheeks had recovered some of their flowing lines, even the lips had lost their deadly pallor. It was as if the blood, no longer needed for the working of the heart, had gone to make the harshness of death as little rude as might be.

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