touched my arm as we swept round the base of a hill and opened
up the lofty, snow-covered peak of a mountain, which seemed, as
we wound en our serpentine way, to be right before us:
«Look! Isten szek!» «God’s seat!» and he crossed him-
self reverently.
As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sank lower and
lower behind us, the shadows of the evening began to creep
round us. This was emphasised by the fact that the snowy
mountain-top still held the sunset, and seemed to glow out with
a delicate cool pink. Here and there we passed Cszeks and Slo-
vaks, all in picturesque attire, but I noticed that goitre was
painfully prevalent. By the roadside were many crosses, and as
w^sw^r^b^mj^mp_a_nions jill crossed themselves. Here and
there was a peasant man or woman kneeling before a shrine,
who did not even turn round as we approached, but seemed in
the self-surrender of devotion to have neither eyes nor ears for
the outer world. There were many things new to me: for instance,
hay-ricks in the trees, and here and there very beautiful masses
of weeping birch, their white stems shining like silver through
the delicate green of the leaves. Now and again we passed a
leiter-wagon the ordinary peasant’s cart with its long, snake-
like vertebra, calculated to suit the inequalities of the road. On
this were sure to be seated quite a group of home-coming peas-
ants, the Cszeks with their white, and the Slovaks with their
coloured, sheepskins, the latter carrying lance-fashion their
long staves, with axe at end. As the evening fell it began to
get very cold, and the growing twilight seemed to merge into
one dark mistiness the gloom of the trees, oak, beech, and pine,
though in the valleys which ran deep between the spurs of the
hills, as we ascended through the Pass, the dark firs stood out
here and there against the background of late-lying snow.
Sometimes, as the road was. cut through the pine woods that
seemed in the darkness to be closing down upon us, great masses
8 Dracula
of greyness, which here and there bestrewed the trees, pro-
duced a peculiarly weird and.. solemn effect, which carried on the
thoughts and grim fancies engendered earlier in the evening,
when the falling sunset threw into strange relief the ghost-like
clouds which amongst the Carpathians seem to wind ceaselessly
through the valleys. Sometimes the hills were so steep that,
despite our driver’s haste, the horses could only go slowly. I
wished to get down and walk up them, as we do at home, but
the driver would not hear of it. "No, no,» he said; "you must not
walk here; the dogs are too fierce»; and then he added, with what
he evidently meant for grim pleasantry for he looked round to
catch the approving smile of the rest «and you may have
enough of such matters before you go to sleep.» The only stop
he would make was a moment’s pause to light his lamps.
When it grew dark there seemed to be some excitement
amongst the passengers, and they kept speaking to him, one
after the other, as though urging him to further speed. He lashed
the horses unmercifully with his long whip, and with wild cries
of encouragement urged them on to further exertions. Then
through the darkness I could see a sort of patch of grey light
ahead of us, as though there were a cleft in the hills. The excite-
ment of the passengers grew greater; the crazy coach rocked on
its great leather springs, and swayed like a boat tossed on a
stormy sea. I had to hold on. The road grew more level, and we
appeared to fly along. Then the mountains seemed to come
nearer to us on each side and to frown down upon us; we were
entering on the Borgo Pass. One by one several of the passengers
offered me gifts, which they pressed upon me with an earnest-
ness which would take no denial; these were certainly of an odd
and varied kind, but each was given in simple good faith, with
a kindly word, and a blessing, and that strange mixture of fear-
meaning movements which I had seen outside the hotel at
Bistritz the sign of the cross and the guard against the evil eye.
Then, as we flew along, the driver leaned forward, and on each
side the passengers, craning over the edge of the coach, peered
eagerly into the darkness. It was evident that something very
exciting was either happening or expected, but though I asked
each passenger, no one would give me the slightest explanation.
This state of excitement kept on for some little time; and at last
we saw before us the Pass opening out on the eastern side. There
were dark, rolling clouds overhead, and in the air the heavy,
oppressive sense of thunder. It seemed as though the mountain
range had separated two atmospheres, and that now we had got
Jonathan Marker’s Journal 9
into the thunderous one. I was now myself looking out for the
conveyance which was to take me to the Count. Each moment
I expected to see the glare of lamps through the blackness; but
all was dark. The only light was the flickering rays of our own
lamps, in which the steam from our hard-driven horses rose in
a white cloud. We could see now the sandy road lying white
before us, but there was on it no sign of a vehicle. The passen-
gers drew back with a sigh of gladness, which seemed to mock
my own disappointment. I was already thinking what I had best
do, when the driver, looking at his watch, said to the others
something which I could hardly hear, it was spoken so quietly
and in so low a tone; I thought it was «An hour less than the
time.» Then turning to me, he said in German worse than my
own:
«There is no carriage here. The Herr is not expected after all.
He will now come on to Bukovina, and return to-morrow or
the next day; better the next day.» Whilst he was speaking the
horses began to neigh and snort and plunge wildly, so that the
driver had to hold them up. Then, amongst a chorus of screams
from the peasants and a universal crossing of themselves, a
caleche, with four horses, drove up behind us, overtook us, and
drew up beside the coach. I could see from the flash of our
lamps, as the rays fell on them, that the horses were coal-black
and splendid animals. They were driven by a tall man, with a
long brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide
his face from us. I could only see the gleam of a pair of very
bright eyes, which seemed red in the lamplight, as he turned to
us. He said to the driver:
«You are early to-night, my friend.» The man stammered in
reply:
«The English Herr was in a hurry,» to which the stranger
replied:
«That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Buko-
vina. You cannot deceive me, my friend; I know too much, and
my horses are swift.» As he spoke he smiled, and the lamplight
fell on a hard-looking mouth, with very red lips and sharp-look-
ing teeth, as white as ivory. One of my companions whispered
to another the line from Burger’s" Lenore " :
«Denri die Todten reiten schnelPV-
(«For the dead travel fast,») ___^
The strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up
with a gleaming smile. The passenger turned his face away, at
io Dracula
the same time putting out his two fingers and crossing himself.
«Give me the Herr’s luggage,» said the driver; and with exceed-
ing alacrity my bags were handed out and put in the caleche.
Then I descended from the side of the coach, as the caleche was
close alongside, the driver helping me with a hand which caught
my arm in a grip of steel; his strength must have been prodi-
gious. Without a word he shook his reins, the horses turned, and
we swept into the darkness of the Pass. As I looked back I saw
the steam from the horses of the coach by the light of the lamps,
and projected against it the figures of my late companions cross-
ing themselves. Then the driver cracked his whip and called
to his horses, and off they swept on their way to Bukovina. As
they sank into the darkness I felt a strange chill, and a lonely
feefing came over me; but a cloak was thrown over my shoul-
ders, and a rug across my knees, and the driver said in excellent
German:
«The night is chill, mein Herr, and my master the Count bade
me take all care of you. There is a flask of slivovitz (the plum
brandy of the country) underneath the seat, if you should re-
quire it.» I did not take any, but it was a comfort to know it was
there all the same. I felt a little strangely, and not a little fright-
ened. I think had there been any alternative I should have
taken it, instead of prosecuting that unknown night journey.
The carriage went at a hard pace straight along, then we made
a complete turn and went along another straight road. It seemed
to me that we were simply going over and over the same ground
again; and so I took note of some salient point, and found that
this was so. I would have liked to have asked the driver what
this all meant, but I really feared to do so, for I thought that,
placed as I was, any protest would have had no effect in case
there had been an intention to delay. By-and-by, however, as I
was curious to know how time was passing, I struck a match,
and by its flame looked at my watch; it was within a few min-
utes of midnight. This gave me a sort of shock, for I suppose the
general superstition about midnight was increased by my recent
experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.
Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down
the road a long, agonised wailing, as if from fear. The sound
was taken up by another dog, and then another and another,
till, borne on the wind which now sighed softly through the Pass,
a wild howling began, which seemed to come from all over the
country, as far as the imagination could grasp it through the
gloom of the night. At the first howl the horses began to strain
Jonathan Marker’s Journal n
and rear, but the driver spoke to them soothingly, and they
quieted down, but shivered and sweated as though after a run-
away from sudden fright. Then, far off in the distance, from the
mountains on each side of us began a louder and a sharper howl-
ing that of wolves which affected both the horses and myself
in the same way for I was minded to jump from the caleche
and run, whilst they reared again and plunged madly, so that
the driver had to use all his great strength to keep them from
bolting. In a few minutes, however, my own ears got accustomed
to the sound, and the horses so far became quiet that the driver
was able to descend and to stand before them. He petted and
soothed them, and whispered something in their ears, as I have
heard of horse-tamers doing, and with extraordinary effect, for
under his caresses they became quite manageable again, though
they still trembled. The driver again took his seat, and shaking
his reins, started off at a great pace. This tune, after going to
the far side of the Pass, he suddenly turned down a narrow road-
way which ran sharply to the right.
Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places arched
right over the roadway till we passed as through a tunnel; and
again great frowning rocks guarded us boldly on either side.
Though we were in shelter, we could hear the rising wind, for
it moaned and whistled through the rocks, and the branches of
the trees crashed together as we swept along. It grew colder and
colder still, and fine, powdery snow began to fall, so that soon
we and all around us were covered with a white blanket. The
keen wind still carried the howling of the dogs, though this grew
fainter as we went on our way. The baying of the wolves sounded
nearer and nearer, as though they were closing round on us from
every side. I grew dreadfully afraid, and the horses shared my
fear. The driver, however, was not in the least disturbed; he
kept turning his head to left and right, but I could not see any-
thing through the darkness.
Suddenly, away on our left, I saw a faint flickering blue flame.
The driver saw it at the same moment; he at once checked the
horses, and, jumping to the ground, disappeared into the dark-
ness. I did not know what to do, the less as the howling of the
wolves grew closer; but while I wondered the driver suddenly
appeared again, and without a word took his seat, and we re-
sumed our journey. I think I must have fallen asleep and kept
dreaming of the incident, for it seemed to be repeated endlessly,
and now looking back, it is like a sort of awful nightmare. Once
the flame appeared so near the road, that even in the darkness
12 -Dracula
around us I could watch the driver’s motions. He went rapidly
to where the blue flame arose it must have been very faint,
for it did not seem to illumine the place around it at all and
gathering a few stones, formed them into some device. Once
there appeared a strange optical effect: when he stood between
me and the flame he did not obstruct it, for I could see its ghostly
flicker all the same. This startled me, but as the effect was only
momentary, I took it that my eyes deceived me straining through
the darkness. Then for a time there were no blue flames, and we
sped onwards through the gloom, with the howling of the wolves
around us, as though they were following in a moving circle.
At last there came a time when the driver went further afield
than he had yet gone, and during his absence, the horses began
to tremble worse than ever and to snort and scream with fright.
I could not see any cause for it, for the howling of the wolves
had ceased altogether; but just then the moon, sailing through
the black clouds, appeared behind the jagged crest of a beet-
ling, pine-clad rock, and by its light I saw around us a ring of
wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues, with long,
sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were a hundred times more
terrible in the grim silence which held them than even when they
howled. For myself, I felt a sort of paralysis of fear. It is only
when a man feels himself face to face with such horrors that he
can understand their true import.
All at once the wolves began to howl as though the moonlight
had had some peculiar effect on them. The horses jumped about
and reared, and looked helplessly round with eyes that rolled in
a way painful to see; but the living ring of terror encompassed
them on every side; and they had perforce to remain within it.
I called to the coachman to come, for it seemed to me that our
only chance was to try to break out through the ring and to aid
his approach. I shouted and beat the side of the caleche, hoping
by the noise to scare the wolves from that side, so as to give him
a chance of reaching the trap. How he came there, I know not,
but I heard his voice raised in a tone of imperious command,
and looking towards the sound, saw him stand hi the roadway.
As he swept his long arms, as though brushing aside some im-
palpable obstacle, the wolves fell back and back further still. Just
then a heavy cloud passed across the face of the moon, so that
we were again hi darkness.
When I could see again the driver was climbing into the
caleche, and the wolves had disappeared. This was all so strange
and uncanny that a dreadful fear came upon me, and I was
Jonathan Marker’s Journal 13
afraid to speak or move. The time seemed interminable as we
swept on our way, now in almost complete darkness, for the roll-
ing clouds obscured the moon. We kept on ascending, with oc-
casional periods of quick descent, but in the main always
ascending. Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact that the
driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of