impulse, we all advanced upon him. It was a pity that we had not some
better organised plan of attack, for even at the moment I wondered what
we were to do. I did not myself know whether our lethal weapons would
avail us anything. Harker evidently meant to try the matter, for he had
ready his great Kukri knife and made a fierce and sudden cut at him. The
blow was a powerful one; only the diabolical quickness of the Count s
leap back saved him. A second less and the trenchant blade had shorne
through his heart. As it was, the point just cut the cloth of his coat,
making a wide gap whence a bundle of bank-notes and a stream of gold
fell out. The expression of the Count s face was so hellish, that for a
moment I feared for Harker, though I saw him throw the terrible knife
aloft again for another stroke. Instinctively I moved forward with a
protective impulse, holding the Crucifix and Wafer in my left hand. I
felt a mighty power fly along my arm; and it was without surprise that I
saw the monster cower back before a similar movement made spontaneously
by each one of us. It would be impossible to describe the expression of
hate and baffled malignity--of anger and hellish rage--which came over
the Count s face. His waxen hue became greenish-yellow by the contrast
of his burning eyes, and the red scar on the forehead showed on the
pallid skin like a palpitating wound. The next instant, with a sinuous
dive he swept under Harker s arm, ere his blow could fall, and, grasping
a handful of the money from the floor, dashed across the room, threw
himself at the window. Amid the crash and glitter of the falling glass,
he tumbled into the flagged area below. Through the sound of the
shivering glass I could hear the ting of the gold, as some of the
sovereigns fell on the flagging.
We ran over and saw him spring unhurt from the ground. He, rushing up
the steps, crossed the flagged yard, and pushed open the stable door.
There he turned and spoke to us:--
You think to baffle me, you--with your pale faces all in a row, like
sheep in a butcher s. You shall be sorry yet, each one of you! You think
you have left me without a place to rest; but I have more. My revenge is
just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side. Your
girls that you all love are mine already; and through them you and
others shall yet be mine--my creatures, to do my bidding and to be my
jackals when I want to feed. Bah! With a contemptuous sneer, he passed
quickly through the door, and we heard the rusty bolt creak as he
fastened it behind him. A door beyond opened and shut. The first of us
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