Dracula

wide open, but the catch of the lock had not caught. The people

of the house are careful to lock the door every night, so I feared

that Lucy must have gone out as she was. There was no time to

think of what might happen; a vague, overmastering fear ob-

scured all details. I took a big, heavy shawl and ran out. The

clock was striking one as I was in the Crescent, and there was not

a soul in sight. I ran along the North Terrace, but could see no

sign of the white figure which I expected. At the edge of the West

Cliff above the pier I looked across the harbour to the East Cliff,

in the hope or fear I don’t know which of seeing Lucy in our

favourite seat. There was a bright full moon, with heavy black,

driving clouds, which threw the whole scene into a fleeting dio-

rama of light and shade as they sailed across. For a moment or

two I could see nothing, as the shadow of a cloud obscured

St. Mary’s Church and all around it. Then as the cloud passed I

could see the ruins of the abbey coming into view; and as the edge

of a narrow band of light as sharp as a sword-cut moved along,

the church and the churchyard became gradually visible. What-

ever my expectation was, it was not disappointed, for there, on

our favourite seat, the silver light of the moon struck a half-

reclining figure, snowy white. The coming of the cloud was too

quick for me to see much, for shadow shut down on light almost

’immediately; but it seemed to me as though something dark

stood behind the seat where the white figure shone, and bent over

86 Dracula

it. What it was, whether man or beast, I could not tell; I did not

wait to catch another glance, but flew down the steep steps

to the pier and along by the fish-market to the bridge, which was

the only way to reach the East Cliff. The town seemed as dead,

for not a soul did I see; I rejoiced that it was so, for I wanted no

witness of poor Lucy’s condition. The time and distance seemed

endless, and my knees trembled and my breath came laboured

as I toiled up the endless steps to the abbey. I must have gone

fast, and yet it seemed to me as if my feet were weighted with

lead, and as though every joint in my body were rusty. When I

got almost to the top I could see the seat and the white figure, for

I was now close enough to distinguish it even through the spells

of shadow. There was undoubtedly something, long and black,

bending over the half-reclining white figure. I called in fright,

«Lucy! Lucy!» and something raised a head, and from where I

was I could see a white face and red, gleaming eyes. Lucy did

not answer, and I ran on to the entrance of the churchyard. As

I entered, the church was between me and the seat, and for a