It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned. Aha! he
said; still at your books? Good! But you must not work always. Come; I
am informed that your supper is ready. He took my arm, and we went into
the next room, where I found an excellent supper ready on the table. The
Count again excused himself, as he had dined out on his being away from
home. But he sat as on the previous night, and chatted whilst I ate.
After supper I smoked, as on the last evening, and the Count stayed with
me, chatting and asking questions on every conceivable subject, hour
after hour. I felt that it was getting very late indeed, but I did not
say anything, for I felt under obligation to meet my host s wishes in
every way. I was not sleepy, as the long sleep yesterday had fortified
me; but I could not help experiencing that chill which comes over one at
the coming of the dawn, which is like, in its way, the turn of the tide.
They say that people who are near death die generally at the change to
the dawn or at the turn of the tide; any one who has when tired, and
tied as it were to his post, experienced this change in the atmosphere
can well believe it. All at once we heard the crow of a cock coming up
with preternatural shrillness through the clear morning air; Count
Dracula, jumping to his feet, said:--
Why, there is the morning again! How remiss I am to let you stay up so
long. You must make your conversation regarding my dear new country of
England less interesting, so that I may not forget how time flies by
us, and, with a courtly bow, he quickly left me.
I went into my own room and drew the curtains, but there was little to
notice; my window opened into the courtyard, all I could see was the
warm grey of quickening sky. So I pulled the curtains again, and have
written of this day.
* * * * *
_8 May._--I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too
diffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, for
there is something so strange about this place and all in it that I
cannot but feel uneasy. I wish I were safe out of it, or that I had
never come. It may be that this strange night-existence is telling on
me; but would that that were all! If there were any one to talk to I
could bear it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak with,
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