Chapter 3
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 are 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 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 for 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
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. Tonight he may talk of himself, if
I turn the conversation that way. I must be very careful, however, not to awake
his suspicion.
Midnight.--I have had a long talk with the Count. I asked him a few questions on
Transylvania history, and he warmed up to the subject wonderfully. In his
speaking of things and people, and especially of battles, he spoke as if he had
been present at them all. This he afterwards explained by saying that to a Boyar