Bram Stoker
Dracula's Guest
When we started for our drive the sun was shining brightly
on Munich, and the air was full of the joyousness of early summer. Just as we were about
to depart, Herr Delbruck (the maitre d'hotel of the Quatre Saisons, where I was staying)
came down bareheaded to the carriage and, after wishing me a pleasant drive, said to the
coachman, still holding his hand on the handle of the carriage door, "Remember you
are back by nightfall. The sky looks bright but there is a shiver in the north wind that
says there may be a sudden storm. But I am sure you will not be late." Here he smiled
and added, "for you know what night it is."
Johann answered with an emphatic, "Ja, mein Herr," and,
touching his hat, drove off quickly. When we had cleared the town, I said, after
signalling to him to stop:
"Tell me, Johann, what is tonight?"
He crossed himself, as he answered laconically: "Walpurgis
nacht." Then he took out his watch, a great, old-fashioned German silver thing as big
as a turnip and looked at it, with his eyebrows gathered together and a little impatient
shrug of his shoulders. I realized that this was his way of respectfully protesting
against the unnecessary delay and sank back in the carriage, merely motioning him to
proceed. He started off rapidly, as if to make up for lost time. Every now and then the
horses seemed to throw up their heads and sniff the air suspiciously. On such occasions I
often looked round in alarm. The road was pretty bleak, for we were traversing a sort of
high windswept plateau. As we drove, I saw a road that looked but little used and which
seemed to dip through a little winding valley. It looked so inviting that, even at the
risk of offending him, I called Johann to stop - and when he had pulled up, I told him I
would like to drive down that road. He made all sorts of excuses and frequently crossed
himself as he spoke. This somewhat piqued my curiosity, so I asked him various questions.
He answered fencingly and repeatedly looked at his watch in protest.
Finally I said, "Well, Johann, I want to go down this road.
I shall not ask you to come unless you like; but tell me why you do not like to go, that
is all I ask." For answer he seemed to throw himself off the box, so quickly did he
reach the ground. Then he stretched out his hands appealingly to me and implored me not to
go. There was just enough of English mixed with the German for me to understand the drift
of his talk. He seemed always just about to tell me something - the very idea of which
evidently frightened him; but each time he pulled himself up saying, "Walpurgis
nacht!"
2
I tried to argue with him, but it
was difficult to argue with a man when I did not know his language. The advantage
certainly rested with him, for although he began to speak in English, of a very crude and
broken kind, he always got excited and broke into his native tongue - and every time he
did so, he looked at his watch. Then the horses became restless and sniffed the air. At
this he grew very pale, and, looking around in a frightened way, he suddenly jumped
forward, took them by the bridles, and led them on some twenty feet. I followed and asked
why he had done this. For an answer he crossed himself, pointed to the spot we had left,
and drew his carriage in the direction of the other road, indicating a cross, and said,
first in German, then in English, "Buried him - him what killed themselves."
I remembered the old custom of burying suicides at cross roads:
"Ah! I see, a suicide. How interesting!" But for the life of me I could not make
out why the horses were frightened.
Whilst we were talking, we heard a sort of sound between a yelp
and a bark. It was far away; but the horses got very restless, and it took Johann all his
time to quiet them. He was pale and said, "It sounds like a wolf - but yet there are
no wolves here now."
"No?" I said, questioning him. "Isn't it long
since the wolves were so near the city?"
"Long, long," he answered, "in the spring and
summer; but with the snow the wolves have been here not so long."
Whilst he was petting the horses and trying to quiet them, dark
clouds drifted rapidly across the sky. The sunshine passed away, and a breath of cold wind
seemed to drift over us. It was only a breath, however, and more of a warning than a fact,
for the sun came out brightly again.
Johann looked under his lifted hand at the horizon and said,
"The storm of snow, he comes before long time." Then he looked at his watch
again, and, straightway holding his reins firmly - for the horses were still pawing the
ground restlessly and shaking their heads - he climbed to his box as though the time had
come for proceeding on our journey.
3
I felt a little obstinate and did
not at once get into the carriage.
"Tell me," I said, "about this place where the
road leads," and I pointed down.
Again he crossed himself and mumbled a prayer before he answered,
"It is unholy."
"What is unholy?" I enquired.
"The village."
"Then there is a village?"
"No, no. No one lives there hundreds of years."
My curiosity was piqued, "But you said there was a
village."
"There was."
"Where is it now?"
Whereupon he burst out into a long story in German and English,
so mixed up that I could not quite understand exactly what he said. Roughly I gathered
that long ago, hundreds of years, men had died there and been buried in their graves; but
sounds were heard under the clay, and when the graves were opened, men and women were
found rosy with life and their mouths red with blood. And so, in haste to save their lives
(aye, and their souls! - and here he crossed himself) those who were left fled away to
other places, where the living lived and the dead were dead and not - not something. He
was evidently afraid to speak the last words. As he proceeded with his narration, he grew
more and more excited. It seemed as if his imagination had got hold of him, and he ended
in a perfect paroxysm of fear - white-faced, perspiring, trembling, and looking round him
as if expecting that some dreadful presence would manifest itself there in the bright
sunshine on the open plain.
Finally, in an agony of desperation, he cried, "Walpurgis
nacht!" and pointed to the carriage for me to get in.
All my English blood rose at this, and standing back I said,
"You are afraid, Johann - you are afraid. Go home, I shall return alone, the walk
will do me good." The carriage door was open. I took from the seat my oak walking
stick - which I al ways carry on my holiday excursions - and closed the door, pointing
back to Munich, and said, "Go home, Johann - Walpurgis nacht doesn't concern
Englishmen."
The horses were now more restive than ever, and Johann was trying
to hold them in, while excitedly imploring me not to do anything so foolish. I pitied the
poor fellow, he was so deeply in earnest; but all the same I could not help laughing. His
English was quite gone now. In his anxiety he had forgot ten that his only means of making
me understand was to talk my language, so he jabbered away in his native German. It began
to be a little tedious. After giving the direction, "Home!" I turned to go down
the cross road into the valley.
4
With a despairing gesture, Johann
turned his horses towards Munich. I leaned on my stick and looked after him. He went
slowly along the road for a while, then there came over the crest of the hill a man tall
and thin. I could see so much in the distance. When he drew near the horses, they began to
jump and kick about, then to scream with terror. Johann could not hold them in; they
bolted down the road, running away madly. I watched them out of sight, then looked for the
stranger; but I found that he, too, was gone.
With a light heart I turned down the side road through the
deepening valley to which Johann had objected. There was not the slightest reason, that I
could see, for his objection; and I daresay I tramped for a couple of hours without
thinking of time or distance and certainly without seeing a person or a house. So far as
the place was concerned, it was desolation itself. But I did not notice this particularly
till, on turning a bend in the road, I came upon a scattered fringe of wood; then I
recognized that I had been impressed unconsciously by the desolation of the region through
which I had passed.
I sat down to rest myself and began to look around. It struck me
that it was considerably colder than it had been at the commencement of my walk - a sort
of sighing sound seemed to be around me with, now and then, high overhead, a sort of
muffled roar. Looking upwards I noticed that great thick clouds were drafting rapidly
across the sky from north to south at a great height. There were signs of a coming storm
in some lofty stratum of the air. I was a little chilly, and, thinking that it was the
sitting still after the exercise of walking, I resumed my journey.
The ground I passed over was now much more picturesque. There
were no striking objects that the eye might single out, but in all there was a charm of
beauty. I took little heed of time, and it was only when the deepening twilight forced it
self upon me that I began to think of how I should find my way home. The air was cold, and
the drifting of clouds high overhead was more marked. They were accompanied by a sort of
far away rushing sound, through which seemed to come at intervals that mysterious cry
which the driver had said came from a wolf. For a while I hesitated. I had said I would
see the deserted village, so on I went and presently came on a wide stretch of open
country, shut in by hills all around. Their sides were covered with trees which spread
down to the plain, dotting in clumps the gentler slopes and hollows which showed here and
there. I followed with my eye the winding of the road and saw that it curved close to one
of the densest of these clumps and was lost behind it.
5
As I looked there came a cold
shiver in the air, and the snow began to fall. I thought of the miles and miles of bleak
country I had passed, and then hurried on to seek shelter of the wood in front. Darker and
darker grew the sky, and faster and heavier fell the snow, till the earth before and
around me was a glistening white carpet the further edge of which was lost in misty
vagueness. The road was here but crude, and when on the level its boundaries were not so
marked as when it passed through the cuttings; and in a little while I found that I must
have strayed from it, for I missed underfoot the hard surface, and my feet sank deeper in
the grass and moss. Then the wind grew stronger and blew with ever increasing force, till
I was fain to run before it. The air became icy- cold, and in spite of my exercise I began
to suffer. The snow was now falling so thickly and whirling around me in such rap id
eddies that I could hardly keep my eyes open. Every now and then the heavens were torn
asunder by vivid lightning, and in the flashes I could see ahead of me a great mass of
trees, chiefly yew and cypress all heavily coated with snow.
I was soon amongst the shelter of the trees, and there in
comparative silence I could hear the rush of the wind high overhead. Presently the
blackness of the storm had become merged in the darkness of the night. By-and-by the storm
seemed to be passing away, it now only came in fierce puffs or blasts. At such moments the
weird sound of the wolf appeared to be echoed by many similar sounds around me.
Now and again, through the black mass of drifting cloud, came a
straggling ray of moonlight which lit up the expanse and showed me that I was at the edge
of a dense mass of cypress and yew trees. As the snow had ceased to fall, I walked out
from the shelter and began to investigate more closely. It appeared to me that, amongst so
many old foundations as I had passed, there might be still standing a house in which,
though in ruins, I could find some sort of shelter for a while. As I skirted the edge of
the copse, I found that a low wall encircled it, and following this I presently found an
opening. Here the cypresses formed an alley leading up to a square mass of some kind of
building. Just as I caught sight of this, however, the drifting clouds obscured the moon,
and I passed up the path in darkness. The wind must have grown colder, for I felt myself
shiver as I walked; but there was hope of shelter, and I groped my way blindly on.
6
I stopped, for there was a sudden
stillness. The storm had passed; and, perhaps in sympathy with nature's silence, my heart
seemed to cease to beat. But this was only momentarily; for suddenly the moonlight broke
through the clouds showing me that I was in a graveyard and that the square object before
me was a great massive tomb of marble, as white as the snow that lay on and all around it.
With the moonlight there came a fierce sigh of the storm which appeared to resume its
course with a long, low howl, as of many dogs or wolves. I was awed and shocked, and I
felt the cold perceptibly grow upon me till it seemed to grip me by the heart. Then while
the flood of moonlight still fell on the marble tomb, the storm gave further evidence of
renewing, as though it were returning on its track. Impelled by some sort of fascination,
I approached the sepulchre to see what it was and why such a thing stood alone in such a
place. I walked around it and read, over the Doric door, in German -
COUNTESS DOLINGEN OF GRATZ
IN STYRIA
SOUGHT AND FOUND DEATH
1801
On the top of the tomb, seemingly driven through the solid marble - for the structure
was composed of a few vast blocks of stone - was a great iron spike or stake. On going to
the back I saw, graven in great Russian letters:
"The dead travel fast."
There was something so weird and uncanny about the whole thing that it gave me a turn
and made me feel quite faint. I began to wish, for the first time, that I had taken
Johann's advice. Here a thought struck me, which came under almost mysterious
circumstances and with a terrible shock. This was Walpurgis Night!
Walpurgis Night was when, according to the belief of mill ions of
people, the devil was abroad - when the graves were opened and the dead came forth and
walked. When all evil things of earth and air and water held revel. This very place the
driver had specially shunned. This was the depopulated village of centuries ago. This was
where the suicide lay; and this was the place where I was alone - unmanned, shivering with
cold in a shroud of snow with a wild storm gathering again up on me! It took all my
philosophy, all the religion I had been taught, all my courage, not to collapse in a
paroxysm of fright.
7
And now a perfect tornado burst
upon me. The ground shook as though thousands of horses thundered across it; and this time
the storm bore on its icy wings, not snow, but great hailstones which drove with such
violence that they might have come from the thongs of Balearic slingers - hailstones that
beat down leaf and branch and made the shelter of the cypresses of no more avail than
though their stems were standing corn. At the first I had rushed to the nearest tree; but
I was soon fain to leave it and seek the only spot that seemed to afford refuge, the deep
Doric doorway of the marble tomb. There, crouching against the massive bronze door, I
gained a certain amount of protection from the beating of the hail stones, for now they
only drove against me as they ricochetted from the ground and the side of the marble.
As I leaned against the door, it moved slightly and opened
inwards. The shelter of even a tomb was welcome in that pitiless tempest and I was about
to enter it when there came a flash of forked lightning that lit up the whole expanse of
the heavens. In the instant, as I am a living man, I saw, as my eyes turned into the
darkness of the tomb, a beautiful woman with rounded cheeks and red lips, seemingly
sleeping on a bier. As the thunder broke overhead, I was grasped as by the hand of a giant
and hurled out into the storm. The whole thing was so sudden that, before I could realize
the shock, moral as well as physical, I found the hailstones beating me down. At the same
time I had a strange, dominating feeling that I was not alone. I looked towards the tomb.
Just then there came another blinding flash which seemed to strike the iron stake that
surmounted the tomb and to pour through to the earth, blasting and crumbling the marble,
as in a burst of flame. The dead woman rose for a moment of agony while she was lapped in
the flame, and her bitter scream of pain was drowned in the thundercrash. The last thing I
heard was this mingling of dreadful sound, as again I was seized in the giant grasp and
dragged away, while the hailstones beat on me and the air around seemed reverberant with
the howling of wolves. The last sight that I remembered was a vague, white, moving mass,
as if all the graves around me had sent out the phantoms of their sheeted dead, and that
they were closing in on me through the white cloudiness of the driving hail.
8
Gradually there came a sort of
vague beginning of consciousness, then a sense of weariness that was dreadful. For a time
I remembered nothing, but slowly my senses returned. My feet seemed positively racked with
pain, yet I could not move them. They seemed to be numbed. There was an icy feeling at the
back of my neck and all down my spine, and my ears, like my feet, were dead yet in
torment; but there was in my breast a sense of warmth which was by comparison delicious.
It was as a nightmare - a physical nightmare, if one may use such an expression; for some
heavy weight on my chest made it difficult for me to breathe.
This period of semi-lethargy seemed to remain a long time, and as
it faded away I must have slept or swooned. Then came a sort of loathing, like the first
stage of seasickness, and a wild desire to be free of something - I knew not what. A vast
stillness enveloped me, as though all the world were asleep or dead - only broken by the
low panting as of some animal close to me. I felt a warm rasping at my throat, then came a
consciousness of the awful truth which chilled me to the heart and sent the blood surging
up through my brain. Some great animal was lying on me and now licking my throat. I feared
to stir, for some instinct of prudence bade me lie still; but the brute seemed to realize
that there was now some change in me, for it raised its head. Through my eyelashes I saw
above me the two great flaming eyes of a gigantic wolf. Its sharp white teeth gleamed in
the gaping red mouth, and I could feel its hot breath fierce and acrid upon me.
For another spell of time I remembered no more. Then I be came
conscious of a low growl, followed by a yelp, renewed again and again. Then seemingly very
far away, I heard a "Hol loa! holloa!" as of many voices calling in unison.
Cautiously I raised my head and looked in the direction whence the sound came, but the
cemetery blocked my view. The wolf still continued to yelp in a strange way, and a red
glare began to move round the grove of cypresses, as though following the sound. As the
voices drew closer, the wolf yelped faster and louder. I feared to make either sound or
motion. Nearer came the red glow over the white pall which stretched into the darkness a
round me. Then all at once from beyond the trees there came at a trot a troop of horsemen
bearing torches. The wolf rose from my breast and made for the cemetery. I saw one of the
horsemen (soldiers by their caps and their long military cloaks) raise his carbine and
take aim. A companion knocked up his arm, and I heard the ball whiz over my head. He had
evidently taken my body for that of the wolf. Another sighted the animal as it slunk away,
and a shot followed. Then, at a gallop, the troop rode forward - some towards me, others
following the wolf as it disappeared amongst the snow-clad cypresses.
9
As they drew nearer I tried to
move but was powerless, al though I could see and hear all that went on around me. Two or
three of the soldiers jumped from their horses and knelt beside me. One of them raised my
head and placed his hand over my heart.
"Good news, comrades!" he cried. "His heart still
beats!"
Then some brandy was poured down my throat; it put vigor into me,
and I was able to open my eyes fully and look around. Lights and shadows were moving among
the trees, and I heard men call to one another. They drew together, uttering frightened
exclamations; and the lights flashed as the others came pouring out of the cemetery
pell-mell, like men possessed. When the further ones came close to us, those who were
around me asked them eagerly, "Well, have you found him?"
The reply rang out hurriedly, "No! no! Come away quick -
quick! This is no place to stay, and on this of all nights!"
"What was it?" was the question, asked in all manner of
keys. The answer came variously and all indefinitely as though the men were moved by some
common impulse to speak yet were restrained by some common fear from giving their
thoughts.
"It - it - indeed!" gibbered one, whose wits had
plainly given out for the moment.
"A wolf - and yet not a wolf!" another put in
shudderingly.
"No use trying for him without the sacred bullet," a
third remarked in a more ordinary manner.
"Serve us right for coming out on this night! Truly we have
earned our thousand marks!" were the ejaculations of a fourth.
"There was blood on the broken marble," another said
after a pause, "the lightning never brought that there. And for him- -is he safe?
Look at his throat! See comrades, the wolf has been lying on him and keeping his blood
warm."
The officer looked at my throat and replied, "He is all
right, the skin is not pierced. What does it all mean? We should never have found him but
for the yelping of the wolf."
"What became of it?" asked the man who was holding up
my head and who seemed the least panic-stricken of the party, for his hands were steady
and without tremor. On his sleeve was the chevron of a petty officer.
10
"It went home," answered
the man, whose long face was pall id and who actually shook with terror as he glanced
around him fearfully. "There are graves enough there in which it may lie. Come,
comrades - come quickly! Let us leave this cursed spot."
The officer raised me to a sitting posture, as he uttered a word
of command; then several men placed me upon a horse. He sprang to the saddle behind me,
took me in his arms, gave the word to advance; and, turning our faces away from the
cypresses, we rode away in swift military order.
As yet my tongue refused its office, and I was perforce silent. I
must have fallen asleep; for the next thing I remembered was finding myself standing up,
supported by a soldier on each side of me. It was almost broad daylight, and to the north
a red streak of sunlight was reflected like a path of blood over the waste of snow. The
officer was telling the men to say nothing of what they had seen, except that they found
an English stranger, guarded by a large dog.
"Dog! that was no dog," cut in the man who had
exhibited such fear. "I think I know a wolf when I see one."
The young officer answered calmly, "I said a dog."
"Dog!" reiterated the other ironically. It was evident
that his courage was rising with the sun; and, pointing to me, he said, "Look at his
throat. Is that the work of a dog, master?"
Instinctively I raised my hand to my throat, and as I touched it
I cried out in pain. The men crowded round to look, some stooping down from their saddles;
and again there came the calm voice of the young officer, "A dog, as I said. If aught
else were said we should only be laughed at."
I was then mounted behind a trooper, and we rode on into the
suburbs of Munich. Here we came across a stray carriage into which I was lifted, and it
was driven off to the Quatre Saisons - the young officer accompanying me, whilst a trooper
followed with his horse, and the others rode off to their barracks.
When we arrived, Herr Delbruck rushed so quickly down the steps
to meet me, that it was apparent he had been watching within. Taking me by both hands he
solicitously led me in. The officer saluted me and was turning to withdraw, when I
recognized his purpose and insisted that he should come to my rooms. Over a glass of wine
I warmly thanked him and his brave comrades for saving me. He replied simply that he was
more than glad, and that Herr Delbruck had at the first taken steps to make all the
searching party pleased; at which ambiguous utterance the maitre d'hotel smiled, while the
officer plead- duty and withdrew.
11
"But Herr Delbruck," I
enquired, "how and why was it that the soldiers searched for me?"
He shrugged his shoulders, as if in depreciation of his own deed,
as he replied, "I was so fortunate as to obtain leave from the commander of the
regiment in which I serve, to ask for volunteers."
"But how did you know I was lost?" I asked.
"The driver came hither with the remains of his carriage,
which had been upset when the horses ran away."
"But surely you would not send a search party of soldiers
merely on this account?"
"Oh, no!" he answered, "but even before the
coachman arrived, I had this telegram from the Boyar whose guest you are," and he
took from his pocket a telegram which he handed to me, and I read:
Bistritz.
Be careful of my guest - his safety is most precious to me. Should aught happen to him, or
if he be missed, spare nothing to find him and ensure his safety. He is English and
therefore adventurous. There are often dangers from snow and wolves and night. Lose not a
moment if you suspect harm to him. I answer your zeal with my fortune.
- Dracula.
As I held the telegram in my hand, the room seemed to whirl around me, and if the
attentive maitre d'hotel had not caught me, I think I should have fallen. There was
something so strange in all this, something so weird and impossible to imagine, that there
grew on me a sense of my being in some way the sport of opposite forces - the mere vague
idea of which seemed in a way to paralyze me. I was certainly under some form of
mysterious protection. From a distant country had come, in the very nick of time, a
message that took me out of the danger of the snow sleep and the jaws of the wolf.
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