Mr. Morris resumed the discussion, “As there
is no time to lose, I vote we have a look at his house
right now. Time is everything with him, and
swift action on our part may save another victim.”
I own that my heart began to fail me when the time
for action came so close, but I did not say anything,
for I had a greater fear that if I appeared as a drag
or a hindrance to their work, they might even leave
me out of their counsels altogether. They have
now gone off to Carfax, with means to get into the
house.
Manlike, they had told me to go to bed and sleep,
as if a woman can sleep when those she loves are in
danger! I shall lie down, and pretend to sleep,
lest Jonathan have added anxiety about me when he
returns.
1 October, 4 A.M.—Just as we were about
to leave the house, an urgent message was brought
to me from Renfield to know if I would see him at
once, as he had something of the utmost importance
to say to me. I told the messenger to say that
I would attend to his wishes in the morning, I was
busy just at the moment.
The attendant added, “He seems very importunate,
sir. I have never seen him so eager. I
don’t know but what, if you don’t see him
soon, he will have one of his violent fits.”
I knew the man would not have said this without some
cause, so I said, “All right, I’ll go now,”
and I asked the others to wait a few minutes for me,
as I had to go and see my patient.
“Take me with you, friend John,” said
the Professor. “His case in your diary
interest me much, and it had bearing, too, now and
again on our case. I should much like to see
him, and especial when his mind is disturbed.”
“May I come also?” asked Lord Godalming.
“Me too?” said Quincey Morris. “May
I come?” said Harker. I nodded, and we
all went down the passage together.
We found him in a state of considerable excitement,
but far more rational in his speech and manner than
I had ever seen him. There was an unusual understanding
of himself, which was unlike anything I had ever met
with in a lunatic, and he took it for granted that
his reasons would prevail with others entirely sane.
We all five went into the room, but none of the others
at first said anything. His request was that
I would at once release him from the asylum and send
him home. This he backed up with arguments regarding
his complete recovery, and adduced his own existing
sanity.
“I appeal to your friends,” he said, “they
will, perhaps, not mind sitting in judgement on my
case. By the way, you have not introduced me.”
I was so much astonished, that the oddness of introducing
a madman in an asylum did not strike me at the moment,
and besides, there was a certain dignity in the man’s
manner, so much of the habit of equality, that I at
once made the introduction, “Lord Godalming,
Professor Van Helsing, Mr. Quincey Morris, of Texas,
Mr. Jonathan Harker, Mr. Renfield.”
