Original Gothic Novel
1 October, evening.-
I found Thomas Snelling in his house at Bethnal Green, but unhappily he was
not in a condition to remember anything. The very prospect of beer which my
expected coming had opened to him had proved too much, and he had begun too
early on his expected debauch. I learned, however, from his wife, who seemed
a decent, poor soul, that he was only the assistant to Smollet, who of the
two mates was the responsible person. So off I drove to Walworth, and found
Mr. Joseph Smollet at home and in his shirtsleeves, taking a late tea out
of a saucer. He is a decent, intelligent fellow, distinctly a good, reliable
type of workman, and with a headpiece of his own. He remembered all about
the incident of the boxes, and from a wonderful dog's-eared notebook, which
he produced from some mysterious receptable about the seat of his trousers,
and which had hieroglyphical entries in thick, half-obliterated pencil, he
gave me the destinations of the boxes. There were, he said, six in the cartload
which he took from Carfax and left at 197, Chicksand Street, Mile End New
Town, and another six which he deposited at Jamaica Lane, Bermondsey. If then
the Count meant to scatter these ghastly refuges of his over London, these
places were chosen as the first of delivery, so that later he might distribute
more fully. The systematic manner in which this was done made me think that
he could not mean to confine himself to two sides of London. He was now fixed
on the far east of the northern shore, on the east of the southern shore,
and on the south. The north and west were surely never meant to be left out
of his diabolical scheme- let alone the City itself and the very heart of
fashionable London in the south-west and west. I went back to Smollet, and
asked him if he could tell us if any other boxes had been taken from Carfax.
"Well, guv'nor, you've treated me wery' an'some"- I had given
him half a sovereign- "an' I'll tell yer all I know I heard a man by
the name of Bloxam say four nights ago in the 'are an 'Ounds, in Pincher's
Alley, as 'ow he an' his mate 'ad 'ad a rare dusty job in a old 'ouse at Purfect.
There ain't a-many such jobs as this 'ere, an' I'm thinkin' that maybe Sam
Bloxam could tell ye summut." I asked if he could tell me where to find
him. I told him that if he could get me the address it would be worth another
half-sovereign to him. So he gulped down the rest of his tea and stood up,
saying that he was going to begin the search then and there. At the door he
stopped, and said:-
guv'nor, there ain't no sense in me a-keepin' you 'ere. I may find Sam soon,
or I mayn't; but anyhow he ain't like to be in a way to tell ye much to-night.
Sam is a rare one when he starts on the booze. If you can give me a envelope
with a stamp on it, and put yer address on it, I'll find out where Sam is
to be found and post it ye to-night. But ye'd better be up arter 'im soon
in the mornin', or maybe ye won't ketch 'im; for Sam gets off main early,
never mind the booze the night afore."
This was all practical,
so one of the children went off with a penny to buy an envelope and a sheet
of paper, and to keep the change. When she came back, I addressed the envelope
and stamped it, and when Smollet had again faithfully promised to post the
address when found, I took my way to home. We're on the track anyhow. I am
tired to-night, and want sleep. Mina is fast asleep, and looks a little too
pale; her eyes look as though she had been crying. Poor dear, I've no doubt
it frets her to be kept in the dark, and it may make her doubly anxious about
me and the others. But it is best as it is. It is better to be disappointed
and worried in such a way now than to have her nerve broken. The doctors were
quite right to insist on her being kept out of this dreadful business. I must
be firm, for on me this particular burden of silence must rest. I shall not
ever enter on the subject with her under any circumstances. Indeed, it may
not be a hard task, after all, for she herself has become reticent on the
subject, and has not spoken of the Count or his doings ever since we told
her of our decision.
2 October, evening.-
A long and trying and exciting day. By the first post I got my directed envelope
with a dirty scrap of paper enclosed, on which was written with a carpenter's
pencil in a sprawling hand:-
Korkrans, 4, Poters Cort, Bartel Street, Walworth. Arsk for the depite."
I got the letter
in bed, and rose without waking Mina. She looked heavy and sleepy and pale,
and far from well. I determined not to wake her, but that, when I should return
from this new search, I would arrange for her going back to Exeter. I think
she would be happier in our own home, with her daily tasks to interest her,
than in being here amongst us and in ignorance. I only saw Dr. Seward for
a moment, and told him where I was off to, promising to come back and tell
the rest so soon as I should have found out anything. I drove to Walworth
and found, with some difficulty, Potter's Court. Mr. Smollet's spelling misled
me, as I asked for Poter's Court instead of Potter's Court. However, when
I had found the court, I had no difficulty in discovering Corcoran's lodging-house.
When I asked the man who came to the door for the "depite," he shook
his head, and said: "I dunno 'im. There ain't no such a person 'ere;
I never 'eard of 'im in all my bloomin days. Don't believe there ain't nobody
of that kind livin 'ere or anywheres." I took out Smollet's letter, and
as I read it it seemed to me that the lesson of the spelling of the name of
the court might guide me. "What are you?" I asked.
depity," he answered. I saw at once that I was on the right track, phonetic
spelling had again misled me. A half-crown tip put the deputy's knowledge
at my disposal, and I learned that Mr. Bloxam, who had slept off the remains
of his beer on the previous night at Corcoran's, had left for his work at
Poplar at five o'clock that morning. He could not tell me where the place
of work was situated, but he had a vague idea that it was some kind of a "new-fangled
ware'us;" and with this slender clue I had to start for Poplar. It was
twelve o'clock before I got any satisfactory hint of such a building, and
this I got at a coffee-shop, where some workmen were having their dinner.
One of these suggested that there was being erected at Cross Angel Street
a new "cold storage" building; and as this suited the condition
of a "new-fangled ware'us," I at once drove to it. An interview
with a surly gatekeeper and a surlier foreman, both of whom were appeased
with the coin of the realm, put me on the track of Bloxam; he was sent for
on my suggesting that I was willing to pay his day's wages to his foreman
for the privilege of asking him a few questions on a private matter. He was
a smart enough fellow, though rough of speech and bearing. When I had promised
to pay for his information and given him an earnest, he told me that he had
made two journeys between Carfax and a house in Piccadilly, and had taken
from this house to the latter nine great boxes- "main heavy ones"-
with a horse and cart hired by him for this purpose. I asked him if he could
tell me the number of the house in Piccadilly, to which he replied:-
I forgits the number, but it was only a few doors from a big white church
or somethink of the kind, not long built. It was a dusty old 'ouse, too, though
nothin' to the dustiness of the 'ouse we tooked the bloomin' boxes from."
you get into the houses if they were both empty?"
the old party what engaged me a-waitin' in the 'ouse at Purfleet. He 'elped
me to lift the boxes and put them in the dray. Curse me, but he was the strongest
chap I ever struck, an' him a old feller, with a white moustache, one that
thin you would think he couldn't throw a shadder."
How this phrase
thrilled through me!
took up 'is end o' the boxes like they was pounds of tea, and me a-puffin'
an' a-blowin' afore I could up-end mine anyhow- an' I'm no chicken, neither."
you get into the house in Piccadilly?" I asked.
"He was there
too. He must 'a' started off and got there afore me, for when I rung of the
bell he kem an' opened the door 'isself an' 'elped me to carry the boxes into
nine?" I asked.
was five in the first load an' four in the second. It was main dry work, an'
I don't so well remember 'ow I got 'ome." I interrupted him:-
boxes left in the hall?"
was a big 'all, an' there was nothin' else in it." I made one more attempt
to further matters:-
have any key?"
no key nor nothink. The old gent, he opened the door 'isself an' shut it again
when I druv off. I don't remember the last time- but that was the beer."
can't remember the number of the house?"
But ye needn't have no difficulty about that. It's a 'igh 'un with a stone
front with a bow on it, an' 'igh steps up to the
door. I know them steps, 'avin 'ad to carry the boxes up with three loafers
what come round to earn a copper. The old gent give them shillin's an' they
seein' they got so much, they wanted more; but 'e took one of them by the
shoulder and was like to throw 'im down the steps, till the lot of them went
away cussin'." I thought that with this description I could find the
house, so, having paid my friend for his information, I started off for Piccadilly.
I had gained a new painful experience; the Count could, it was evident, handle
the earth-boxes himself! If so, time was precious; for, now that he had achieved
a certain amount of distribution, he could, by choosing his own time, complete
the task unobserved. At Piccadilly Circus I discharged my cab, and walked
westward; beyond the Junior Constitutional I came across the house described,
and was satisfied that this was the next of the lairs arranged by Dracula.
The house looked as though it had been long untenanted. The windows were encrusted
with dust, and the shutters were up. All the framework was black with time,
and from the iron the paint had mostly scaled away. It was evident that up
to lately there had been a large notice-board in front of the balcony; it
had, however, been roughly torn away, the uprights which had supported it
still remaining. Behind the rails of the balcony I saw there were some loose
boards, whose raw edges looked white. I would have given a good deal to have
been able to see the notice-board intact, as it would, perhaps, have given
some clue to the owner-ship of the house. I remembered my experience of the
investigation and purchase of Carfax, and I could not but feel that if I could
find the former owner there might be some means discovered of gaining access
to the house.
There was at present
nothing to be learned from the Piccadilly side, and nothing could be done;
so I went round to the back to see if anything could be gathered from this
quarter. The mews were active, the Piccadilly houses being mostly in occupation.
I asked one or two of the grooms and helpers whom I saw around if they could
tell me anything about the empty house. One of them said that he heard it
had lately been taken, but he couldn't say from whom. He told me, however,
that up to very lately there had been a notice-board of "For Sale"
up, and that perhaps Mitchell, Sons, & Candy, the house agents, could
tell me something, as he thought he remembered seeing the name of that firm
on the board. I did not wish to seem too eager, or to let my informant know
or guess too much, so, thanking him in the usual manner, I strolled away.
It was now growing dusk, and the autumn night was closing in, so I did not
lose any time. Having learned the address of Mitchell, Sons, & Candy from
a directory at the Berkeley, I was soon at their office in Sackville Street.
who saw me was particularly suave in manner, but uncommunicative in equal
proportion. Having once told me that the Piccadilly house- which throughout
our interview he called a "mansion"- was sold, he considered my
business as concluded. When I asked who had purchased it, he opened his eyes
a thought wider, and paused a few seconds before replying:-
"It is sold,
I said, with equal politeness, "but I have a special reason for wishing
to know who purchased it."
Again he paused longer, and raised his eyebrows still more. "It
is sold sir," was again his laconic reply.
I said, "you do not mind letting me know so much."
"But I do
mind," he answered. "The affairs of their clients are absolutely
safe in the hands of Mitchell, Sons, & Candy." This was manifestly
a prig of the first water, and there was no use arguing with him. I thought
I had best meet him on his own ground, so I said:
sir, are happy in having so resolute a guardian of their confidence. I am
myself a professional man." Here I handed him my card. "In this
instance I am not prompted by curiosity; I act on the part of Lord Godalming,
who wishes to know something of the property which was, he understood, lately
for sale." These words put a different complexion on affairs. He said:-
like to oblige you if I could, Mr. Harker, and especially would I like to
oblige his lordship. We once carried out a small matter of renting some chambers
for him when he was the Honourable Arthur Holmwood. If you will let me have
his lordship's address I will consult the House on the subject, and will in
any case, communicate with his lordship by to-night's post. It will be a pleasure
if we can so far deviate from our rules as to give the required information
to his lordship."
I wanted to secure
a friend, and not to make an enemy, so I thanked him, gave the address at
Dr. Seward's, and came away. It was now dark, and I was tired and hungry.
I got a cup of tea at the Aerated Bread Company and came down to Purfleet
by the next train.
I found all the
others at home. Mina was looking tired and pale, but she made a gallant effort
to be bright and cheerful; it wrung my heart to think that I had had to keep
anything from her and so caused her inquietude. Thank God, this will be the
last night of her looking on at our conferences, and feeling the sting of
our not showing our confidence. It took all my courage to hold to the wise
resolution of keeping her out of our grim task. She seems somehow more reconciled;
or else the very subject seems to have become repugnant to her, for when any
accidental allusion is made she actually shudders. I am glad we made our resolution
in time, as with such a feeling as this, our growing knowledge would be torture
I could not tell
the others of the day's discovery till we were alone; so after dinner- followed
by a little music to save appearances even amongst ourselves- I took Mina
to her room and left her to go to bed. The dear girl was more affectionate
with me than ever, and clung to me as though she would detain me; but there
was much to be talked of and I came away. Thank God, the ceasing of telling
things has made no difference between us.
When I came down
again I found the others all gathered round the fire in the study. In the
train I had written my diary so far, and simply read it off to them as the
best means of letting them get abreast of my own information; when I had finished
Van Helsing said:-
been a great day's work, friend Jonathan. Doubtless we are on the track of
the missing boxes. If we find them all in that house, then our work is near
the end. But if there be some missing, we must search until we find them.
Then shall we make our final coup, and hunt the wretch to his real death."
We all sat silent awhile and all at once Mr. Morris spoke:-
are we going to get into that house?"
"We got into
the other," answered Lord Godalming quickly.
this is different. We broke house at Carfax, but we had night and a walled
park to protect us. It will be a mighty different thing to commit burglary
in Piccadilly, either by day or night. I confess I don't see how we are going
to get in unless that agency duck can find us a key of some sort; perhaps
we shall know when you get his letter in the morning." Lord Godalming's
brows contracted, and he stood up and walked about the room. By-and-by he
stopped and said, turning from one to another of us:-
head is level. This burglary business is getting serious; we got off once
all right; but we have now a rare job on hand- unless we can find the Count's
As nothing could
well be done before morning, and as it would be at least advisable to wait
till Lord Godalming should hear from Mitchell's, we decided not to take any
active step before breakfast time. For a good while we sat and smoked, discussing
the matter in its various lights and bearings; I took the opportunity of bringing
this diary right up to the moment. I am very sleepy and shall go to bed...
Just a line. Mina
sleeps soundly and her breathing is regular. Her forehead is puckered up into
little wrinkles, as though she thinks even in her sleep. She is still too
pale, but does not look so haggard as she did this morning. Tomorrow will,
I hope, mend all this; she will be herself at home in Exeter. Oh, but I am
1 October- I am
puzzled afresh about Renfield. His moods change so rapidly that I find it
difficult to keep touch of them, and as they always mean something more than
his own well-being, they form a more than interesting study. This morning,
when I went to see him after his repulse of Van Helsing, his manner was that
of a man commanding destiny. He was, in fact, commanding destiny- subjectively.
He did not really care for any of the things of mere earth; he was in the
clouds and looked down on all the weaknesses and wants of us poor mortals.
I thought I would improve the occasion and learn something, so I asked him:-
the flies these times?" He smiled on me in quite a superior sort of way-
such a smile as would have become the face of Malvolio- as he answered me:-
my dear sir, has one striking feature; its wings are typical of the aerial
powers of the psychic faculties. The ancients did well when they typified
the soul as a butterfly!"
I thought I would
push his analogy to its utmost logically, so I said quickly:-
"Oh, it is
a soul you are after now, is it?" His madness foiled his reason, and
a puzzled look spread over his face as, shaking his head with a decision which
I had but seldom seen in him, he said:-
"Oh no, oh
no! I want no souls. Life is all I want." Here he brightened up; "I
am pretty indifferent about it at present. Life is
all right; I have all I want. You must get a new patient, doctor, if you wish
to study zoophagy!"
This puzzled me
a little, so I drew him on:-
command life; you are a god I suppose?" He smiled with an ineffably benign
"Oh no! Far
be it from me to arrogate to myself the attributes of the Deity. I am not
even concerned in His especially spiritual doings. If I may state my intellectual
position I am, so far as concerns things purely terrestrial, somewhat in the
position which Enoch occupied spiritually!" This was a poser to me. I
could not at the moment recall Enoch's appositeness; so I had to ask a simple
question, though I felt that by so doing I was lowering myself in the eyes
of the lunatic:-
he walked with God." I could not see the analogy, but did not like to
admit it; so I harked back to what he had denied:-
"So you don't
care about life and you don't want souls. Why not?" I put my question
quickly and somewhat sternly, on purpose to disconcert him. The effort succeeded;
for an instant he unconsciously relapsed into his old servile manner, bent
low before me, and actually fawned upon me as he replied:-
want any souls, indeed, indeed! I don't. I couldn't use them if I had them;
they would be no manner of use to me. I couldn't eat them or-" he suddenly
stopped and the old cunning look spread over his face, like a wind-sweep on
the surface of the water. "And doctor, as to life, what is it after all?
When you've got all you require, and you know that you will never want, that
is all. I have friends- good friends- like you Dr. Seward;" this was
said with a leer of inexpressible cunning, "I know that I shall never
lack the means of life!"
I think that through
the cloudiness of his insanity he saw some antagonism in me, for he at once
fell back on the last refuge of such as he- a dogged silence. After a short
time I saw that for the present it was useless to speak to him. He was sulky,
and so I came away.
Later in the day
he sent for me. Ordinarily I would not have come without special reason, but
just at present I am so interested in him that I would gladly make an effort.
Besides, I am glad to have anything to help to pass the time. Harker is out,
following up clues; and so are Lord Godalming and Quincey. Van Helsing sits
in my study poring over the record prepared by the Harkers; he seems to think
that by accurate knowledge of all details he will light upon some clue. He
does not wish to be disturbed in the work, without cause. I would have taken
him with me to see the patient, only I thought that after his last repulse
he might not care to go again. There was also another reason: Renfield might
not speak so freely before a third person as when he and I were alone.
I found him sitting out in the middle of the floor on his stool, a pose which
is generally indicative of some mental energy on his part. When I came in,
he said at once, as though the question had been waiting on his lips:-
souls?" It was evident then that my surmise had been correct. Unconscious
cerebration was doing its work, even with the lunatic. I determined to have
the matter out. "What about them yourself?" I asked. He did not
reply for a moment but looked all round him, and up and down, as though he
expected to find some inspiration for an answer.
want any souls!" he said in a feeble, apologetic way. The matter seemed
preying on his mind, and so I determined to use it- to "be cruel only
to be kind." So I said:-
life, and you want life?"
but that is all right; you needn't worry about that!"
I asked, "how are we to get the life without getting the soul also?"
This seemed to puzzle him, so I followed it up:-
"A nice time
you'll have some time when you're flying out there, with the souls of thousands
of flies and spiders and birds and cats buzzing and twittering and miauing
all round you. You've got their lives, you know, and you must put up with
their souls!" Something seemed to affect his imagination, for he put
his fingers to his ears and shut his eyes, screwing them up tightly just as
a small boy does when his face is being soaped. There was something pathetic
in it that touched me; it also gave me a lesson, for it seemed that before
me was a child- only a child, though the features were worn, and the stubble
on the jaws was white. It was evident that he was undergoing some process
of mental disturbance, and, knowing how his past moods had interpreted things
seemingly foreign to himself, I thought I would enter into his mind as well
as I could and go with him. The first step was to restore confidence, so I
asked him, speaking pretty loud so that he would hear me through his closed
like some sugar to get your flies round again?" He seemed to wake up
all at once, and shook his head. With a laugh he replied:-
flies are poor things, after all!" After a pause he added, "But
I don't want their souls buzzing round me, all the same."
I went on.
What's the use of spiders? There isn't anything in them to eat or"- he
stopped suddenly, as though reminded of a forbidden topic.
I thought to myself, "this is the second time he has suddenly stopped
at the word 'drink;' what does it mean?" Renfield seemed himself aware
of having made a lapse, for he hurried on, as though to distract my attention
take any stock at all in such matters. 'Rats and mice and such small deer,'
as Shakespeare has it, 'chicken-feed of the
larder' they might be called. I'm past all that sort of nonsense. You might
as well ask a man to eat molecules with a pair of
chop-sticks, as to try to interest me about the lesser carnivora, when I know
of what is before me."
I said. "You want big things that you can make your teeth meet in? How
would you like to breakfast on elephant?"
nonsense you are talking!" He was getting too wide awake, so I thought
I would press him hard. "I wonder," I said reflectively, "what
an elephant's soul is like!"
The effect I desired
was obtained, for he at once fell from his high-horse and became a child again.
want an elephant's soul, or, any soul at all!" he said. For a few moments
he sat despondently. Suddenly he jumped to his feet, with his eyes blazing
and all the signs of intense cerebral excitement. "To hell with you and
your souls!" he shouted. "Why do you plague me about souls. Haven't
I got enough to worry, and pain, and distract me already, without thinking
of souls!" He looked so hostile that I thought he was in for another
homicidal fit, so I blew my whistle. The instant, however, that I did so he
became calm, and said apologetically:-
me, Doctor; I forgot myself. You do not need any help. I am so worried in
my mind that I am apt to be irritable. If you only knew the problem I have
to face, and that I am working out, you would pity, and tolerate, and pardon
me. Pray do not put me in a strait-waistcoat. I want to think and I cannot
think freely when my body is confined. I am sure you will understand!"
He had evidently self-control; so when the attendants came I told them not
to mind, and they withdrew. Renfield watched them go; when the door was closed
he said, with considerable dignity and sweetness:-
you have been very considerate towards me. Believe me that I am very, very
grateful to you!" I thought it well to leave him in this mood, and so
I came away. There is certainly something to ponder over in this man's state.
Several points seem to make what the American interviewer calls "a story,"
if one could only get them in proper order. Here they are:-
Will not mention
Fears the thought
of being burdened with the "soul" of anything.
Has no dread of
wanting "life" in the future.
Despises the meaner
forms of life altogether, though he dreads being haunted by their souls.
these things point one way! he has assurance of some kind that he will acquire
some higher life. He dreads the consequence- the burden of a soul. Then it
is a human life he looks to!
And the assurance-?
the Count has been to him, and there is some new scheme of terror afoot!
Later.- I went
after my round to Van Helsing and told him my suspicion. He grew very grave;
and, after thinking the matter over for a while asked me to take him to Renfield.
I did so. As we came to the door we heard the lunatic within singing gaily,
as he used to do in the time which now seems so long ago. When we entered
we saw with amazement that he had spread out his sugar as of old; the flies,
lethargic with the autumn, were beginning to buzz into the room. We tried
to make him talk of the subject of our previous conversation, but he would
not attend. He went on with his singing, just as though we had not been present.
He had got a scrap of paper and was folding it into a note-book. We had to
come away as ignorant as we went in.
His is a curious
case indeed; we must watch him to-night.
Mitchell, Sons and Candy to Lord Godalming.
"We are at all times only too happy to meet your wishes. We beg,
with regard to the desire of your Lordship, expressed by Mr. Harker on your
behalf, to supply the following information concerning the sale and purchase
of No. 347 Piccadilly. The original vendors are the executors of the late
Mr. Archibald Winter-Suffield. The purchaser is a foreign nobleman, Count
de Ville, who effected the purchase himself paying the purchase money in notes
'over the counter,' if your Lordship will pardon us using so vulgar an expression.
Beyond this we know nothing whatever of him.
"We are, my Lord,
"Your Lordship's humble servants.
"Mitchell, Sons & Candy."
Dr. Seward's Diary.
2 October.- I
placed a man in the corridor last night, and told him to make an accurate
note of any sound he might hear from Renfield's room, and gave him instructions
that if there should be anything strange he was to call me. After dinner,
when we had all gathered round the fire in the study- Mrs. Harker having gone
to bed- we discussed the attempts and discoveries of the day. Harker was the
only one who had any result, and we are in great hopes that his clue may be
an important one. Before going to bed I went round to the patient's
room and looked in through the observation trap. He was sleeping soundly,
and his heart rose and fell with regular respiration.
This morning the
man on duty reported to me that a little after midnight he was restless and
kept saying his prayers somewhat loudly. I asked him if that was all; he replied
that it was all he heard. There was something about his manner so suspicious
that I asked him point blank if he had been asleep. He denied sleep, but admitted
to having "dozed" for a while. It is too bad that men cannot be
trusted unless they are watched.
is out following up his clue, and Art and Quincey are looking after horses.
Godalming thinks that it will be well to have horses always in readiness,
for when we get the information which we seek there will be no time to lose.
We must sterilise all the imported earth between sunrise and sunset; we shall
thus catch the Count at his weakest, and without a refuge to fly to. Van Helsing
is off to the British Museum looking up some authorities on ancient medicine.
The old physicians took account of things which their followers do not accept,
and the Professor is searching for witch and demon cures which may be useful
to us later.
I sometimes think
we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.
We have met again. We seem at last to be on the track, and our work of to-morrow
may be the beginning of the end. I wonder if Renfield's quiet has anything
to do with this. His moods have so followed the doings of the Count, that
the coming destruction of the monster may be carried to him in some subtle
way. If we could only get some hint as to what passed in his mind, between
the time of my argument with him to-day and his resumption of fly-catching,
it might afford us a valuable clue. He is now seemingly quiet for a spell...
Is he?- that wild yell seemed to come from his room.
attendant came bursting into my room and told me that Renfield had somehow
met with some accident. He had heard him yell; and when he went to him found
him lying on his face on the floor, all covered with blood. I must go at once...
Original Gothic Novel
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