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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 484 pages of information about Dracula.
over this ship.  Already a hand short, and entering the Bay of Biscay with wild weather ahead, and yet last night another man lost, disappeared.  Like the first, he came off his watch and was not seen again.  Men all in a panic of fear, sent a round robin, asking to have double watch, as they fear to be alone.  Mate angry.  Fear there will be some trouble, as either he or the men will do some violence.
28 July.—­Four days in hell, knocking about in a sort of maelstrom, and the wind a tempest.  No sleep for any one.  Men all worn out.  Hardly know how to set a watch, since no one fit to go on.  Second mate volunteered to steer and watch, and let men snatch a few hours sleep.  Wind abating, seas still terrific, but feel them less, as ship is steadier.
29 July.—­Another tragedy.  Had single watch tonight, as crew too tired to double.  When morning watch came on deck could find no one except steersman.  Raised outcry, and all came on deck.  Thorough search, but no one found.  Are now without second mate, and crew in a panic.  Mate and I agreed to go armed henceforth and wait for any sign of cause.
30 July.—­Last night.  Rejoiced we are nearing England.  Weather fine, all sails set.  Retired worn out, slept soundly, awakened by mate telling me that both man of watch and steersman missing.  Only self and mate and two hands left to work ship.
1 August.—­Two days of fog, and not a sail sighted.  Had hoped when in the English Channel to be able to signal for help or get in somewhere.  Not having power to work sails, have to run before wind.  Dare not lower, as could not raise them again.  We seem to be drifting to some terrible doom.  Mate now more demoralised than either of men.  His stronger nature seems to have worked inwardly against himself.  Men are beyond fear, working stolidly and patiently, with minds made up to worst.  They are Russian, he Roumanian.
2 August, midnight.—­Woke up from few minutes sleep by hearing a cry, seemingly outside my port.  Could see nothing in fog.  Rushed on deck, and ran against mate.  Tells me he heard cry and ran, but no sign of man on watch.  One more gone.  Lord, help us!  Mate says we must be past Straits of Dover, as in a moment of fog lifting he saw North Foreland, just as he heard the man cry out.  If so we are now off in the North Sea, and only God can guide us in the fog, which seems to move with us, and God seems to have deserted us.
3 August.—­At midnight I went to relieve the man at the wheel and when I got to it found no one there.  The wind was steady, and as we ran before it there was no yawing.  I dared not leave it, so shouted for the mate.  After a few seconds, he rushed up on deck in his flannels.  He looked wild-eyed and haggard, and I greatly fear his reason has given way.  He came close to me and whispered hoarsely, with
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