We went into the room, taking the flowers with us.
The Professor’s actions were certainly odd
and not to be found in any pharmacopeia that I ever
heard of. First he fastened up the windows and
latched them securely. Next, taking a handful
of the flowers, he rubbed them all over the sashes,
as though to ensure that every whiff of air that might
get in would be laden with the garlic smell.
Then with the wisp he rubbed all over the jamb of
the door, above, below, and at each side, and round
the fireplace in the same way. It all seemed
grotesque to me, and presently I said, “Well,
Professor, I know you always have a reason for what
you do, but this certainly puzzles me. It is
well we have no sceptic here, or he would say that
you were working some spell to keep out an evil spirit.”
“Perhaps I am!” he answered quietly as
he began to make the wreath which Lucy was to wear
round her neck.
We then waited whilst Lucy made her toilet for the
night, and when she was in bed he came and himself
fixed the wreath of garlic round her neck. The
last words he said to her were,
“Take care you do not disturb it, and even if
the room feel close, do not tonight open the window
or the door.”
“I promise,” said Lucy. “And
thank you both a thousand times for all your kindness
to me! Oh, what have I done to be blessed with
such friends?”
As we left the house in my fly, which was waiting,
Van Helsing said, “Tonight I can sleep in peace,
and sleep I want, two nights of travel, much reading
in the day between, and much anxiety on the day to
follow, and a night to sit up, without to wink.
Tomorrow in the morning early you call for me, and
we come together to see our pretty miss, so much more
strong for my ‘spell’ which I have work.
Ho, ho!”
He seemed so confident that I, remembering my own
confidence two nights before and with the baneful
result, felt awe and vague terror. It must have
been my weakness that made me hesitate to tell it to
my friend, but I felt it all the more, like unshed
tears.
LUCY WESTENRA’S DIARY
12 September.—How good they all are to
me. I quite love that dear Dr. Van Helsing.
I wonder why he was so anxious about these flowers.
He positively frightened me, he was so fierce.
And yet he must have been right, for I feel comfort
from them already. Somehow, I do not dread being
alone tonight, and I can go to sleep without fear.
I shall not mind any flapping outside the window.
Oh, the terrible struggle that I have had against
sleep so often of late, the pain of sleeplessness,
or the pain of the fear of sleep, and with such unknown
horrors as it has for me! How blessed are some
people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads, to whom
sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings
nothing but sweet dreams. Well, here I am tonight,
hoping for sleep, and lying like Ophelia in the play,
with ‘virgin crants and maiden strewments.’
I never liked garlic before, but tonight it is delightful!
There is peace in its smell. I feel sleep coming
already. Goodnight, everybody.
