When I found that I was a prisoner a sort of wild feeling came over me.
I rushed up and down the stairs, trying every door and peering out of
every window I could find; but after a little the conviction of my
helplessness overpowered all other feelings. When I look back after a
few hours I think I must have been mad for the time, for I behaved much
as a rat does in a trap. When, however, the conviction had come to me
that I was helpless I sat down quietly--as quietly as I have ever done
anything in my life--and began to think over what was best to be done. I
am thinking still, and as yet have come to no definite conclusion. Of
one thing only am I certain; that it is no use making my ideas known to
the Count. He knows well that I am imprisoned; and as he has done it
himself, and has doubtless his own motives for it, he would only deceive
me if I trusted him fully with the facts. So far as I can see, my only
plan will be to keep my knowledge and my fears to myself, and my eyes
open. I am, I know, either being deceived, like a baby, by my own fears,
or else I am in desperate straits; and if the latter be so, I need, and
shall need, all my brains to get through.
I had hardly come to this conclusion when I heard the great door below
shut, and knew that the Count had returned. He did not come at once into
the library, so I went cautiously to my own room and found him making
the bed. This was odd, but only confirmed what I had all along
thought--that there were no servants in the house. When later I saw him
through the chink of the hinges of the door laying the table in the
dining-room, I was assured of it; for if he does himself all these
menial offices, surely it is proof that there is no one else to do them.
This gave me a fright, for if there is no one else in the castle, it
must have been the Count himself who was the driver of the coach that
brought me here. This is a terrible thought; for if so, what does it
mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, by only holding up his
hand in silence. How was it that all the people at Bistritz and on the
coach had some terrible fear for me? What meant the giving of the
crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of the mountain ash? Bless
that good, good woman who hung the crucifix round my neck! for it is a
comfort and a strength to me whenever I touch it. It is odd that a thing
which I have been taught to regard with disfavour and as idolatrous
should in a time of loneliness and trouble be of help. Is it that there
is something in the essence of the thing itself, or that it is a medium,
a tangible help, in conveying memories of sympathy and comfort? Some
time, if it may be, I must examine this matter and try to make up my
mind about it. In the meantime I must find out all I can about Count
Dracula, as it may help me to understand. To-night he may talk of
himself, if I turn the conversation that way. I must be very careful,
however, not to awake his suspicion.
I rushed up and down the stairs, trying every door and peering out of
every window I could find; but after a little the conviction of my
helplessness overpowered all other feelings. When I look back after a
few hours I think I must have been mad for the time, for I behaved much
as a rat does in a trap. When, however, the conviction had come to me
that I was helpless I sat down quietly--as quietly as I have ever done
anything in my life--and began to think over what was best to be done. I
am thinking still, and as yet have come to no definite conclusion. Of
one thing only am I certain; that it is no use making my ideas known to
the Count. He knows well that I am imprisoned; and as he has done it
himself, and has doubtless his own motives for it, he would only deceive
me if I trusted him fully with the facts. So far as I can see, my only
plan will be to keep my knowledge and my fears to myself, and my eyes
open. I am, I know, either being deceived, like a baby, by my own fears,
or else I am in desperate straits; and if the latter be so, I need, and
shall need, all my brains to get through.
I had hardly come to this conclusion when I heard the great door below
shut, and knew that the Count had returned. He did not come at once into
the library, so I went cautiously to my own room and found him making
the bed. This was odd, but only confirmed what I had all along
thought--that there were no servants in the house. When later I saw him
through the chink of the hinges of the door laying the table in the
dining-room, I was assured of it; for if he does himself all these
menial offices, surely it is proof that there is no one else to do them.
This gave me a fright, for if there is no one else in the castle, it
must have been the Count himself who was the driver of the coach that
brought me here. This is a terrible thought; for if so, what does it
mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, by only holding up his
hand in silence. How was it that all the people at Bistritz and on the
coach had some terrible fear for me? What meant the giving of the
crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of the mountain ash? Bless
that good, good woman who hung the crucifix round my neck! for it is a
comfort and a strength to me whenever I touch it. It is odd that a thing
which I have been taught to regard with disfavour and as idolatrous
should in a time of loneliness and trouble be of help. Is it that there
is something in the essence of the thing itself, or that it is a medium,
a tangible help, in conveying memories of sympathy and comfort? Some
time, if it may be, I must examine this matter and try to make up my
mind about it. In the meantime I must find out all I can about Count
Dracula, as it may help me to understand. To-night he may talk of
himself, if I turn the conversation that way. I must be very careful,
however, not to awake his suspicion.