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Dracula

Год написания книги
2019
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which I did not know at all. I was just able to follow her by

asking many questions. When I told her that I must go at once,

and that I was engaged on important business, she asked again:

«Do you know what day it is?» I answered that it was the

fourth of May. She shook her head as she said again:

«Oh, yes! I know that! I know that, but do you know what

day it is? "On my saying that I did not understand, she went on:

«It is the eve o|j^GegreJs^^

night, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the

world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going,

and what you are going to? "She was in such evident distress that

I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally she went down

on her knees and Implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or

two before starting. It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel

comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I

could allow nothing to interfere with it. I therefore tried to raise

her up, and said, as gravely as I could, that I thanked her, but

Jonathan Marker’s Journal 5

my duty was imperative, and that I must go. She then rose and

dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to

me. I did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman,

I have been taught to regard such things as in some measure

idolatrous, and yet it seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady

meaning so well and in such a state of mind. She saw, I suppose,

the doubt in my face, for she put the rosary round my neck;

and said, «For your mother’s sake,» and went out of the room.

I am writing up this part of the diary whilst I am waiting for

the coach, which is, of course, late; and the crucifix is still round

my neck. Whether it is the old lady’s fear, or the many ghostly

traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know, but

I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual. If this book

should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye.

Here comes the coach!

5 May. The Castle. The grey of the morning has passed, and

the sun is high over the distant horizon, which seems jagged,

whether with trees or hills I know not, for it is so far off that big

things and little are mixed. I am not sleepy, and, as I am not to

be called till I awake, naturally I write till sleep comes. There

are many odd things to put down, and, lest who reads them may

fancy that I dined too well before I left Bistritz, let me put down

my dinner exactly. I dined on what they called «robber steak»

j bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned with red pepper, and

strung on sticks and roasted over the fire, in the simple style of

the London cat’s meat’! The wine was Golden Mediasch, which

produces a queer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not dis-

agreeable. I had only a couple of glasses of this, and nothing else.

When I got on the coach the driver had not taken his seat,

and I saw him talking with the landlady. They were evidently

talking of me, for every now and then they looked at me, and

some of the people who were sitting on the bench outside the
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