Dracula. Bram Stoker
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is a very interesting old place. Being practically on the
frontier for the Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovina it
has had a very stormy existence, and it certainly shows marks
of it. Fifty years ago a series of great fires took place, which
made terrible havoc on five separate occasions. At the very be-
ginning of the seventeenth century it underwent a siege of three
weeks and lost 13,000 people, the casualties of war proper being
assisted by famine and disease.
Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone
Hotel, which I found, to my great delight, to be thoroughly old-
fashioned, for of course I wanted to see all I could of the ways
of the country. I was evidently expected, for when I got near the
door I faced a cheery-looking elderly woman in the usual peas-
ant dress white undergarment with long double apron, front,
and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tight for modesty.
When I came close she bowed and said, «The Herr English-
man?» «Yes,» I said, «Jonathan Harker.» She smiled, and gave
some message to an elderly man in white shirt-sleeves, who had
followed her to the door. He went, but immediately returned
with a letter:
«My Friend. Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously
expecting you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the dili-
gence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At
4 Dracula
the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you
to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy
one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.
«Your friend,
«DRACULA.»
4 May. I found that my landlord had got a letter from the
Count, directing him to secure the best place on the coach for
me; but on making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat
reticent, and pretended that he could not understand my Ger-
man. This could not be true, because up to then he had under-
stood it perfectly; at least, he answered my questions exactly
as if he did. He and his wife, the old lady who had received me,
looked at each other in a frightened sort of way. He mumbled
out that the money had been sent in a letter, and that was all
r _he knew. When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and
could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed
themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply
refused to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that
I had no time to ask any one else, for it was all very mysterious
and not by any means comforting.
Just before I was levying, the old lady came up to my room
and said in a very liysteric^L way:
«Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go? "She was in such
an excited state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what
German she knew, and mixed it all up with some other language
which I did not know at all. I was just able to follow her by
asking many questions. When I told her that I must go at once,
and that I was engaged on important business, she asked again:
«Do you know what day it is?» I answered that it was the
fourth of May. She shook her head as she said again:
«Oh, yes! I know that! I know that, but do you know what
day it is? "On my saying that I did not understand, she went on:
«It is the eve o|j^GegreJs^^
night, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the
world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going,
and what you are going to? "She was in such evident distress that
I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally she went down
on her knees and Implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or
two before starting. It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel
comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I
could allow nothing to interfere with it. I therefore tried to raise
her up, and said, as gravely as I could, that I thanked her, but
Jonathan Marker’s Journal 5
my duty was imperative, and that I must go. She then rose and
dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to
me. I did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman,
I have been taught to regard such things as in some measure
idolatrous, and yet it seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady
meaning so well and in such a state of mind. She saw, I suppose,
the doubt in my face, for she put the rosary round my neck;
and said, «For your mother’s sake,» and went out of the room.
I am writing up this part of the diary whilst I am waiting for
the coach, which is, of course, late; and the crucifix is still round
my neck. Whether it is the old lady’s fear, or the many ghostly
traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know, but
I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual. If this book
should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye.
Here comes the coach!
5 May. The Castle. The grey of the morning has passed, and
the sun is high over the distant horizon, which seems jagged,
whether with trees or hills I know not, for it is so far off that big
things and little are mixed. I am not sleepy, and, as I am not to
be called till I awake, naturally I write till sleep comes. There
are many odd things to put down, and, lest who reads them may
fancy that I dined too well before I left Bistritz, let me put down
my dinner exactly. I dined on what they called «robber steak»
j bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned with red pepper, and
strung on sticks and roasted over the fire, in the simple style of
the London cat’s meat’! The wine was Golden Mediasch, which
produces a queer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not dis-
agreeable. I had only a couple