Same day, later.--I have made the effort

Same day, later.--I have made the effort, and God helping me, have come safely back to this room. I must put down every detail in order. I went whilst my courage was fresh straight to the window on the south side, and at once got outside on this side.  The stones are big and roughly cut, and the mortar has by process of time been washed away between them. I took off my boots, and ventured out on the desperate way. I looked down once, so as to make sure that a sudden glimpse of the awful depth would not overcome me, but after that kept my eyes away from it.  I know pretty well the direction and distance of the Count's window, and made for it as well as I could, having regard to the opportunities available. I did not feel dizzy, I suppose I was too excited, and the time seemed ridiculously short till I found myself standing on the window sill and trying to raise up the sash. I was filled with agitation, however, when I bent down and slid feet foremost in through the window.  Then I looked around for the Count, but with surprise and gladness, made a discovery. The room was empty! It was barely furnished with odd things, which seemed to have never been used.

The furniture was something the same style as that in the south rooms, and was covered with dust. I looked for the key, but it was not in the lock, and I could not find it anywhere. The only thing I found was a great heap of gold in one corner, gold of all kinds, Roman, and British, and Austrian, and Hungarian, and Greek and Turkish money, covered with a film of dust, as though it had lain long in the ground. None of it that I noticed was less than three hundred years old.   There were also chains and ornaments, some jewelled, but all of them old and stained.

At one corner of the room was a heavy door. I tried it, for, since I could not find the key of the room or the key of the outer door, which was the main object of my search, I must make further examination, or all my efforts would be in vain. It was open, and led through a stone passage to a circular stairway, which went steeply down.

I descended, minding carefully where I went for the stairs were dark, being only lit by loopholes in the heavy masonry. At the bottom there was a dark, tunnel-like passage, through which came a deathly, sickly odour, the odour of old earth newly turned. As I went through the passage the smell grew closer and heavier. At last I pulled open a heavy door which stood ajar, and found myself in an old ruined chapel, which had evidently been used as a graveyard.  The roof was broken, and in two places were steps leading to vaults, but the ground had recently been dug over, and the earth placed in great wooden boxes, manifestly those which had been brought by the Slovaks.

There was nobody about, and I made a search over every inch of the ground, so as not to lose a chance. I went down even into the vaults, where the dim light struggled, although to do so was a dread to my very soul. Into two of these I went, but saw nothing except fragments of old coffins and piles of dust. In the third, however, I made a discovery.

There, in one of the great boxes, of which there were fifty in all, on a pile of newly dug earth, lay the Count! He was either dead or asleep.  I could not say which, for eyes were open and stony, but without the glassiness of death, and the cheeks had the warmth of life through all their pallor. The lips were as red as ever. But there was no sign of movement, no pulse, no breath, no beating of the heart.

I bent over him, and tried to find any sign of life, but in vain. He could not have lain there long, for the earthy smell would have passed away in a few hours. By the side of the box was its cover, pierced with holes here and there. I thought he might have the keys on him, but when I went to search I saw the dead eyes, and in them dead though they were, such a look of hate, though unconscious of me or my presence, that I fled from the place, and leaving the Count's room by the window, crawled again up the castle wall. Regaining my room, I threw myself panting upon the bed and tried to think.

Comments

[Bryan Alexander]

Some notes:

"a great heap of gold" - economically, Dracula has at this point advanced past coins, entering the present age. Later in the novel, when stabbed, he will lose cash.

"an old ruined chapel" - compare with William Blake, "The GARDEN of LOVE":
I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And Thou shalt not. writ over the door;
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore,

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

[David40]

Jonathan clearly isn't thinking straight. If he can manage to climb up and down the castle wall, why doesn't he just climb down to the ground and escape?

[panasianbiz]

I stumbled across your blog while I was doing some online research. This is certainly an interesting project and one that may encourage some non-readers to explore classic works they had not even previously heard of.

[David40]

"Later in the novel, when stabbed, he will lose cash."

So another possible interpretation of the novel--albeit fanciful--would be that Dracula is not really a vampire at all, but just a really rich, really eccentric, and really foreign nobleman who is robbed and murdered by the characters we see as our heroes and heroines. The accounts we are reading are written by people interested in covering up the murder with a ridiculous story about vampirism.

Admittedly a rather far fetched interpretation but this statement of "losing cash while stabbed" sounds more like a Central Park mugging than a legitimate vampire hunt.

A less far fetched question would be this: can we assume that the many narrators are always telling the truth in this novel?

[Tyler]

"can we assume that the many narrators are always telling the truth in this novel?"

Well, you can always assume that the narrators are lying, but then you venture more into the realm of creating your own story, rather than listening to one.

I must admit sympathy to your view though- "When stabbed, he will lose cash" sounds like some line from Mugging 101. Reminds me of the old Richard Pryor skit:

Wino Dealing With Dracula ;p

[Elizabeth]

"Well, you can always assume that the narrators are lying, but then you venture more into the realm of creating your own story, rather than listening to one."

Which is what Fred Saberhagen does in his novel "The Dracula Tape." It is a rewriting of Stoker's book from just one point of view, Dracula's. A great - and funny - read!

[Elizabeth]

"...this statement of 'losing cash while stabbed' sounds more like a Central Park mugging than a legitimate vampire hunt."

Remember "Love at First Bite"? Dracula is accosted on a NY street by a couple of would-be muggers who learn quickly that they are messing around with the wrong dude!