I ran back at once, and told the watchman to get three or four menimmediately and follow me into the grounds of Carfax, in case ourfriend might be dangerous. I got a ladder myself, and crossing thewall, dropped down on the other side. I could see Renfield's figurejust disappearing behind the angle of the house, so I ran after him.On the far side of the house I found him pressed close against the oldiron-bound oak door of the chapel. He was talking, apparently to someone, but I was afraid to go near enough to hear what he was saying, lestI might frighten him, and he should run off. Chasing an errant swarm ofbees is nothing to following a naked lunatic when the fit of escaping isupon him! After a few minutes, however, I could see that he did not takenote of anything around him, and so ventured to draw nearer to him--themore so as my men had now crossed the wall and were closing him in. Iheard him say:--
"I am here to do Your bidding, Master. I am Your slave, and You willreward me, for I shall be faithful. I have worshipped You long and afaroff. Now that You are near, I await Your commands, and You will not passme by, will You, dear Master, in Your distribution of good things?"
He _is_ a selfish old beggar anyhow. He thinks of the loaves and fisheseven when he believes he is in a Real Presence. His manias make astartling combination. When we closed in on him he fought like a tiger.He is immensely strong, and he was more like a wild beast than a man.I never saw a lunatic in such a paroxysm of rage before; and I hope Ishall not again. It is a mercy that we have found out his strength andhis danger in good time. With strength and determination like his, hemight have done wild work before he was caged. He is safe now at anyrate. Jack Sheppard himself couldn't get free from the strait-waistcoatthat keeps him restrained, and he's chained to the wall in the paddedroom. His cries are at times awful, but the silences that follow aremore deadly still, for he means murder in every turn and movement.
Just now he spoke coherent words for the first time:--
"I shall be patient, Master. It is coming--coming--coming!"
So I took the hint, and came too. I was too excited to sleep, but thisdiary has quieted me, and I feel I shall get some sleep to-night.
CHAPTER IX.
_Letter, Mina Harker to Lucy Westenra._
_"Buda-Pesth, 24 August._
"My dearest Lucy,--
"I know you will be anxious to hear all that has happened since weparted at the railway station at Whitby. Well, my dear, I got to Hullall right, and caught the boat to Hamburg, and then the train on here. Ifeel I can hardly recall anything of the journey, except that I knew Iwas coming to Jonathan, and, that as I should have to do some nursing,I had better get all the sleep I could.... I found my dear one, oh,so thin and pale and weak-looking. All the resolution has gone out ofhis dear eyes, and that quiet dignity which I told you was in his facehas vanished. He is only a wreck of himself, and he does not rememberanything that has happened to him for a long time past. At least, hewants me to believe so, and I shall never ask. He has had some terribleshock, and I fear it might tax his poor brain if he were to try torecall it. Sister Agatha, who is a good creature and a born nurse,tells me that he raved of dreadful things whilst he was off his head. Iwanted her to tell me what they were; but she would only cross herself,and say she would never tell; that the ravings of the sick were thesecrets of God, and that if a nurse through her vocation should hearthem, she should respect her trust. She is a sweet, good soul, and thenext day, when she saw I was troubled, she opened up the subject again,and after saying that she could never mention what my poor dear ravedabout, added: 'I can tell you this much, my dear: that it was not aboutanything which he has done wrong himself; and you, as his wife to be,have no cause to be concerned. He has not forgotten you or what he owesto you. His fear was of great and terrible things, which no mortal cantreat of.' I do believe the dear soul thought I might be jealous lest mypoor dear should have fallen in love with any other girl. The idea of_my_ being jealous about Jonathan! And yet, my dear, let me whisper, Ifelt a thrill of joy through me when I _knew_ that no other woman was acause of trouble. I am now sitting by his bedside, where I can see hisface while he sleeps. He is waking! ... When he woke he asked me forhis coat, as he wanted to get something from the pocket; I asked SisterAgatha, and she brought all his things. I saw that amongst them was hisnote-book, and was going to ask him to let me look at it--for I knewthen that I might find some clue to his trouble--but I suppose he musthave seen my wish in my eyes, for he sent me over to the window, sayinghe wanted to be quite alone for a moment. Then he called me back, andwhen I came he had his hand over the note-book, and he said to me verysolemnly:--
"'Wilhelmina'--I knew then that he was in deadly earnest, for he hasnever called me by that name since he asked me to marry him--'you know,dear, my ideas of the trust between husband and wife: there should beno secret, no concealment. I have had a great shock, and when I try tothink of what it is I feel my head spin round, and I do not know if itwas all real or the dreaming of a madman. You know I have had brainfever, and that is to be mad. The secret is here, and I do not wantto know it. I want to take up my life here, with our marriage.' For,my dear, we had decided to be married as soon as the formalities arecomplete. 'Are you willing, Wilhelmina, to share my ignorance? Here isthe book. Take it and keep it, read it if you will, but never let meknow; unless, indeed, some solemn duty should come upon me to go back tothe bitter hours, asleep or awake, sane or mad, recorded here.' He fellback, exhausted, and I put the book under his pillow, and kissed him. Ihave asked Sister Agatha to beg the Superior to let our wedding be thisafternoon, and am waiting her reply....
"She has come and told me that the chaplain of the English missionchurch has been sent for. We are to be married in an hour, or as soonafter as Jonathan awakes....
"Lucy, the time has come and gone. I feel very solemn, but very, veryhappy. Jonathan woke a little after the hour, and all was ready, and hesat up in bed, propped up with pillows. He answered his 'I will' firmlyand strongly. I could hardly speak; my heart was so full that even thesewords seemed to choke me. The dear Sisters were so kind. Please God, Ishall never, never forget them, nor the grave and sweet responsibilitiesI have taken upon me. I must tell you of my wedding present. When thechaplain and the Sisters had left me alone with my husband--oh, Lucy,it is the first time I have written the words 'my husband'--left mealone with my husband, I took the book from under his pillow, andwrapped it up in white paper, and tied it with a little bit of pale blueribbon which was wound round my neck, and sealed it over the knot withsealing-wax, and for my seal I used my wedding ring. Then I kissed itand showed it to my husband, and told him that I would keep it so, andthen it would be an outward and visible sign for us all our lives thatwe trusted each other; that I would never open it unless it were for hisown dear sake or for the sake of some stern duty. Then he took my handin his, and oh, Lucy, it was the first time he took _his wife's_ hand,and said that it was the dearest thing in all the wide world, and thathe would go through all the past again to win it, if need be. The poordear meant to have said a part of the past; but he cannot think of timeyet, and I shall not wonder if at first he mixes up not only the month,but the year.
"Well, my dear, what could I say? I could only tell him that I was thehappiest woman in all the wide world, and that I had nothing to give himexcept myself, my life, and my trust, and that with these went my loveand duty for all the days of my life. And, my dear, when he kissed me,and drew me to him with his poor weak hands, it was like a very solemnpledge between us....
"Lucy dear, do you know why I tell you all this? It is not only becauseit is all sweet to me, but because you have been, and are, very dearto me. It was my privilege to be your friend and guide when you camefrom the schoolroom to prepare for the world of life. I want you to seenow, and with the eyes of a very happy wife, whither duty has led me;so that in your own married life you too may be all happy as I am. Mydear, please Almighty God, your life may be all it promises: a long dayof sunshine, with no harsh wind, no forgetting duty, no distrust. I mustnot wish you no pain, for that can never be; but I do hope you will bealways as happy as I am _now_. Good-bye, my dear. I shall post this atonce, and, perhaps, write you very soon again. I must stop, for Jonathanis waking--I must attend to my husband!
"Your ever-loving "/Mina Harker./"
_Letter, Lucy Westenra to Mina Harker._
"_Whitby, 30 August._
"My dearest Mina,--
"Oceans of love and millions of kisses, and may you soon be in your ownhome with your husband. I wish you could be coming home soon enoughto stay with us here. This strong air would soon restore Jonathan; ithas quite restored me. I have an appetite like a cormorant, am full oflife, and sleep well. You will be glad to know that I have quite givenup walking in my sleep. I think I have not stirred out of my bed for aweek, that is when I once got into it at night. Arthur says I am gettingfat. By the way, I forgot to tell you that Arthur is here. We havesuch walks and drives, and rides, and rowing, and tennis, and fishingtogether; and I love him more than ever. He _tells me_ that he loves memore, but I doubt that, for at first he told me that he couldn't love memore than he did then. But this is nonsense. There he is, calling to me.So no more just at present from your loving
"/Lucy./
"P.S.--Mother sends her love. She seems better, poor dear.
"P.P.S.--We are to be married on 28 September."
_Dr. Seward's Diary_
_20 August._--The case of Renfield grows even more interesting. He hasnow so far quieted that there are spells of cessation from his passion.For the first week after his attack he was perpetually violent. Thenone night, just as the moon rose, he grew quiet, and kept murmuring tohimself: "Now I can wait; now I can wait." The attendant came to tellme, so I ran down at once to have a look at him. He was still in thestrait-waistcoat and in the padded room, but the suffused look hadgone from his face, and his eyes had something of their old pleading--Imight almost say, "cringing"--softness. I was satisfied with hispresent condition, and directed him to be relieved. The attendantshesitated, but finally carried out my wishes without protest. It was astrange thing that the patient had humour enough to see t
heir distrust,for, coming close to me, he said in a whisper, all the while lookingfurtively at them:--
"They think I could hurt you! Fancy _me_ hurting _you_! The fools!"
It was soothing, somehow, to the feelings to find myself dissociatedeven in the mind of this poor madman from the others; but all the sameI do not follow his thought. Am I to take it that I have anything incommon with him, so that we are, as it were, to stand together; or hashe to gain from me some good so stupendous that my well-being is needfulto him? I must find out later on. To-night he will not speak. Even theoffer of a kitten or even a full-grown cat will not tempt him. He willonly say: "I don't take any stock in cats. I have more to think of now,and I can wait; I can wait."
After a while I left him. The attendant tells me that he was quietuntil just before dawn, and then he began to get uneasy, and at lengthviolent, until at last he fell into a paroxysm which exhausted him sothat he swooned into a sort of coma.