Strange that it never struck me that the very next
house might be the Count’s hiding place!
Goodness knows that we had enough clues from the
conduct of the patient Renfield! The bundle of
letters relating to the purchase of the house were
with the transcript. Oh, if we had only had
them earlier we might have saved poor Lucy! Stop!
That way madness lies! Harker has gone back,
and is again collecting material. He says that
by dinner time they will be able to show a whole connected
narrative. He thinks that in the meantime I should
see Renfield, as hitherto he has been a sort of index
to the coming and going of the Count. I hardly
see this yet, but when I get at the dates I suppose
I shall. What a good thing that Mrs. Harker put
my cylinders into type! We never could have
found the dates otherwise.
I found Renfield sitting placidly in his room with
his hands folded, smiling benignly. At the moment
he seemed as sane as any one I ever saw. I sat
down and talked with him on a lot of subjects, all
of which he treated naturally. He then, of his
own accord, spoke of going home, a subject he has
never mentioned to my knowledge during his sojourn
here. In fact, he spoke quite confidently of
getting his discharge at once. I believe that,
had I not had the chat with Harker and read the letters
and the dates of his outbursts, I should have been
prepared to sign for him after a brief time of observation.
As it is, I am darkly suspicious. All those
out-breaks were in some way linked with the proximity
of the Count. What then does this absolute content
mean? Can it be that his instinct is satisfied
as to the vampire’s ultimate triumph?
Stay. He is himself zoophagous, and in his wild
ravings outside the chapel door of the deserted house
he always spoke of ‘master’. This
all seems confirmation of our idea. However,
after a while I came away. My friend is just
a little too sane at present to make it safe to probe
him too deep with questions. He might begin to
think, and then . . . So I came away. I
mistrust these quiet moods of of his, so I have given
the attendant a hint to look closely after him, and
to have a strait waistcoat ready in case of need.
JOHNATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL
29 September, in train to London.—When
I received Mr. Billington’s courteous message
that he would give me any information in his power
I thought it best to go down to Whitby and make, on
the spot, such inquiries as I wanted. It was
now my object to trace that horrid cargo of the Count’s
to its place in London. Later, we may be able
to deal with it. Billington junior, a nice lad,
met me at the station, and brought me to his father’s
house, where they had decided that I must spend the
night. They are hospitable, with true Yorkshire
hospitality, give a guest everything and leave him
to do as he likes. They all knew that I was busy,
and that my stay was short, and Mr. Billington had
