And I have read your diary that you have so goodly written for me, and which breathes out truth in every line. I, who have read your so sweet letter to poor Lucy of your marriage and your trust, not know you! Oh, Madam Mina, good women tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and by minute, such things that angels can read. And we men who wish to know have in us something of angels' eyes. Your husband is noble nature, and you are noble too, for you trust, and trust cannot be where there is mean nature.
And your husband, tell me of him. Is he quite well?
Is all that fever gone, and is he strong and hearty?"
I saw here an opening to ask him about Jonathan, so I said, "He was almost recovered, but he has been greatly upset by Mr. Hawkins death."
He interrupted, "Oh, yes. I know. I know. I have read your last two letters."
I went on, "I suppose this upset him, for when we were in town on Thursday last he had a sort of shock."
"A shock, and after brain fever so soon! That is not good.
What kind of shock was it?"
"He thought he saw some one who recalled something terrible, something which led to his brain fever." And here the whole thing seemed to overwhelm me in a rush. The pity for Jonathan, the horror which he experienced, the whole fearful mystery of his diary, and the fear that has been brooding over me ever since, all came in a tumult.
I suppose I was hysterical, for I threw myself on my knees and held up my hands to him, and implored him to make my husband well again.
He took my hands and raised me up, and made me sit on the sofa, and sat by me. He held my hand in his, and said to me with, oh, such infinite sweetness, "My life is a barren and lonely one, and so full of work that I have not had much time for friendships, but since I have been summoned to here by my friend John Seward I have known so many good people and seen such nobility that I feel more than ever, and it has grown with my advancing years, the loneliness of my life.
Believe me, then, that I come here full of respect for you, and you have given me hope, hope, not in what I am seeking of, but that there are good women still left to make life happy, good women, whose lives and whose truths may make good lesson for the children that are to be. I am glad, glad, that I may here be of some use to you. For if your husband suffer, he suffer within the range of my study and experience.
I promise you that I will gladly do all for him that I can, all to make his life strong and manly, and your life a happy one.
Now you must eat. You are overwrought and perhaps over-anxious.
Husband Jonathan would not like to see you so pale, and what he like not where he love, is not to his good.
Therefore for his sake you must eat and smile. You have told me about Lucy, and so now we shall not speak of it, lest it distress.
I shall stay in Exeter tonight, for I want to think much over what you have told me, and when I have thought I will ask you questions, if I may. And then too, you will tell me of husband Jonathan's trouble so far as you can, but not yet.
You must eat now, afterwards you shall tell me all."
After lunch, when we went back to the drawing room, he said to me, "And now tell me all about him."
When it came to speaking to this great learned man, I began to fear that he would think me a weak fool, and Jonathan a madman, that journal is all so strange, and I hesitated to go on.
But he was so sweet and kind, and he had promised to help, and I trusted him, so I said, "Dr. Van Helsing, what I have to tell you is so queer that you must not laugh at me or at my husband.
I have been since yesterday in a sort of fever of doubt.
You must be kind to me, and not think me foolish that I have even half believed some very strange things."
He reassured me by his manner as well as his words when he said, "Oh, my dear, if you only know how strange is the matter regarding which I am here, it is you who would laugh.
I have learned not to think little of any one's belief, no matter how strange it may be. I have tried to keep an open mind, and it is not the ordinary things of life that could close it, but the strange things, the extraordinary things, the things that make one doubt if they be mad or sane."
"Thank you, thank you a thousand times! You have taken a weight off my mind.
If you will let me, I shall give you a paper to read. It is long, but I have typewritten it out. It will tell you my trouble and Jonathan's.
It is the copy of his journal when abroad, and all that happened.
I dare not say anything of it. You will read for yourself and judge.
And then when I see you, perhaps, you will be very kind and tell me what you think."
"I promise," he said as I gave him the papers. "I shall in the morning, as soon as I can, come to see you and your husband, if I may."
"Jonathan will be here at half-past eleven, and you must come to lunch with us and see him then. You could catch the quick 3:34 train, which will leave you at Paddington before eight."
He was surprised at my knowledge of the trains offhand, but he does not know that I have made up all the trains to and from Exeter, so that I may help Jonathan in case he is in a hurry.
So he took the papers with him and went away, and I sit here thinking, thinking I don't know what.
LETTER (by hand), VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER
25 September, 6 o'clock "Dear Madam Mina, "I have read your husband's so wonderful diary. You may sleep without doubt.
Strange and terrible as it is, it is true! I will pledge my life on it.
It may be worse for others, but for him and you there is no dread.
He is a noble fellow, and let me tell you from experience of men, that one who would do as he did in going down that wall and to that room, aye, and going a second time, is not one to be injured in permanence by a shock.
His brain and his heart are all right, this I swear, before I have even seen him, so be at rest. I shall have much to ask him of other things.
I am blessed that today I come to see you, for I have learn all at once so much that again I am dazzled, dazzled more than ever, and I must think.
"Yours the most faithful, "Abraham Van Helsing."
LETTER, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING
25 September, 6:30 P.M.
