Dracula: The Castle

The coach stopped in the dark courtyard of a huge castle; the driver, whose hand was as strong as a steel clamp, helped Jonathan down, set his bags on the ground, and drove away through one of the black archways.There was no bell and no knocker, and as Jonathan waited alone before the great iron-studded door, he wondered what kind of place he had come to, and he pinched himself to make sure he was not dreaming.

At last he heard heavy footsteps, the rattle of chains and the grinding of a key, and the great door swung open.Inside stood a tall old man, dressed in black from head to foot, holding an antique silver lamp whose flame flickered in the draught.“Welcome to my house!” he said in excellent English. “Enter freely and of your own will!”He did not move until Jonathan had stepped across the threshold; then he shook his hand with a strength that made Jonathan wince, and the hand was as cold as ice.

“I am Dracula,” he said, and with a courteous bow he picked up the luggage himself, saying that his servants were not available and that he would see to his guest’s comfort.He led Jonathan along cold stone passages to a room where a fire blazed and a table was laid for supper, and beyond it to a warm bedroom.

Jonathan, hungry and relieved, sat down to roast chicken, cheese and wine, but the Count would not join him: “I have dined already, and I do not sup.”The Count asked many polite questions about the journey and listened closely while Jonathan described everything he had seen.

Afterwards, by the fire, Jonathan studied his host at last: a strong, pale face with a thin curved nose, thick eyebrows that almost met, and a cruel-looking mouth with sharp white teeth.The Count’s ears were pointed, his nails were long and sharp, and there were even hairs in the palms of his hands.When the Count leaned close, Jonathan felt a sudden shudder of disgust that he could not hide, and the Count drew back with a grim smile.

Just then the first grey light of dawn appeared, and from far down in the valley came the howling of many wolves.The Count’s eyes gleamed. “Listen to them — the children of the night,” he said. “What music they make!”Seeing Jonathan’s face, he added that a man from the city could never understand the feelings of a hunter, and then he opened the bedroom door himself and told him to sleep well.Alone at last, Jonathan wrote in his journal that he was in a sea of wonders, that he doubted and feared and thought strange things he dared not confess, and that he prayed to be kept safe for the sake of those he loved.