Chapter I. A Summons in the Night

by Bram Stoker

　　It all seemed so real that I could hardly imagine that it had everoccurred before; and yet each episode came, not as a fresh step in thelogic of things, but as something expected. It is in such wise thatmemory plays its pranks for good or ill; for pleasure or pain; for wealor woe. It is thus that life is bitter-sweet, and that which has beendone becomes eternal.Again, the light skiff, ceasing to shoot through the lazy water aswhen the oars flashed and dripped, glided out of the fierce Julysunlight into the cool shade of the great drooping willow branches--Istanding up in the swaying boat, she sitting still and with deftfingers guarding herself from stray twigs or the freedom of theresilience of moving boughs. Again, the water, looked golden-brownunder the canopy of translucent green; and the grassy bank was ofemerald hue. Again, we sat in the cool shade, with the myriad noises ofnature both without and within our bower merging into that drowsy humin whose sufficing environment the great world with its disturbingtrouble, and its more disturbing joys, can be effectually forgotten.Again, in that blissful solitude the young girl lost the convention ofher prim, narrow up-bringing and told me in a natural, dreamy way ofthe loneliness of her new life. With an undertone of sadness she mademe feel how in that spacious home each one of the household wasisolated by the personal magnificence of her father and herself; thatthere confidence had no altar, or sympathy no shrine; and that thereeven her father's face was as distant as the old country life seemednow. Once more, the wisdom of my manhood and the experience of my yearslaid themselves at the girl's feet. It was seemingly their own doing;for the individual T had no say in the matter, but only just obeyedimperative orders. And once again the flying seconds multipliedthemselves endlessly. For it is in the arcana of dreams that existencesmerge and renew themselves,' change and yet keep the same--like the soulof a musician in a fugue. And so memory swooned, again and again, insleep.It seems that there is never to be any perfect rest. Even in Edenthe snake rears its head among the laden boughs of the Tree ofKnowledge. The silence of the dreamless night is broken by the roar ofthe avalanche; the hissing of sudden floods; the clanging of the enginebell marking its sweep through a sleeping American town; the clankingof distant paddles over the sea.... Whatever it is, it is breaking thecharm of my Eden. The canopy of greenery above us, starred withdiamond-points of light, seems to quiver in the ceaseless beat ofpaddles; and the restless bell seems as though it would never cease....All at once the gates of Sleep were thrown wide open, and my wakingears took in the cause of the disturbing sounds. Waking existence isprosaic enough--there was somebody knocking and ringing at someone'sstreet door.I was pretty well accustomed in my Jermyn Street chambers to passingsounds; usually I did not concern myself, sleeping or waking, with thedoings, however noisy, of my neighbours. But this noise was toocontinuous, too insistent, too imperative to be ignored. There was someactive intelligence behind that ceaseless sound; and some stress orneed behind the intelligence. I was not altogether selfish, and at thethought of someone's need I was, without premeditation, out of bed. Instinctively I looked at my watch. It was just three o'clock; therewas a faint edging of grey round the green blind which darkened myroom. It was evident that the knocking and ringing were at the door ofour own house; and it was evident, too, that there was no one awake toanswer the call. I slipped on my dressing-gown and slippers, and wentdown to the hall door. When I opened it, there stood a dapper groom,with one hand pressed unflinchingly on the electric bell whilst withthe other he raised a ceaseless clangour with the knocker. The instanthe saw me the noise ceased; one hand went up instinctively to the brimof his hat, and the other produced a letter from his pocket. A neatbrougham was opposite the door, the horses were breathing heavily asthough they had come fast. A policeman, with his night lantern still alight at his belt, stoodby attracted to the spot by the noise.'Beg pardon, sir, I'm sorry for disturbing you, but my orders wasimperative; I was not to lose a moment, but to knock and ring tillsomeone came. May I ask you, sir, if Mr. Malcolm Ross lives here?'I am Mr. Malcolm Ross.'"Then this letter is for you, sir, and the bro'am is for you too,sir!'I took, with a strange curiosity, the letter which he handed to me.As a barrister I had had, of course, odd experiences now and then,including sudden demands upon my time; but never anything like this.I stepped back into the hall, closing the door, but leaving it ajar;then I switched on the electric light. The letter was directed in astrange hand, a woman's. It began at once without 'dear sir' or anysuch address:You said you would like to help me if I needed it; and I believe youmeant what you said. The time has come sooner than I expected. I am indreadful trouble, and do not know where to turn, or to whom to apply.An attempt has, I fear, been made to murder my Father; though, thankGod, he still lives. But he is quite unconscious. The doctors andpolice have been sent for; but there is no one here whom I can dependon. Come at once, if you are able to; and forgive me if you can. Isuppose I shall realise later what I have done in asking such a favour;but at present I cannot think. Come! Come at once!Pain and exultation struggled in my mind as I read; but themastering thought was that she was in trouble and had called on me--me!My dreaming of her, then, was not altogether without a cause. I calledout to the groom: 'Wait! I shall be with you in a minute!' Then Iflew upstairs.A very few minutes sufficed to wash and dress; and we were soondriving through the streets as fast as the horses could go. It wasmarket morning, and when we got out on Piccadilly there was an endlessstream of carts coming from the west; but for the rest the roadway wasclear, and we went quickly. I had told the groom to come into thebrougham with me so that he could tell me what had happened as we wentalong. He sat awkwardly, with his hat on his knees as he spoke.'Miss Trelawny, sir, sent a man to tell us to get out a carriage atonce; and when we was ready she come herself and gave me the letterand told Morgan--the coachman, sir--to fly. She said as I was to lose nota second, but to keep knocking till someone come.'"Yes, I know, I know--you told me! What I want to know is, why shesent for me. What happened in the house?''I don't quite know myself, sir; except that master was found inhis room senseless, with the sheets all bloody, and a wound on hishead. He couldn't be waked nohow. 'Twas Miss Trelawny herselfas found him.''How did she come to find him at such an hour? It was late in thenight, I suppose?''I don't know, sir; I didn't hear nothing at all of the details.'As he could tell me no more, I stopped the carriage for a moment tolet him get out on the box; then I turned the matter over in my mind asI sat alone. There were many things which I could have asked theservant; and for a few moments after he had gone I was angry withmyself for not having used my opportunity. On second thought, however,I was glad the temptation was gone. I felt that it would be moredelicate to learn what I wanted to know of Miss Trelawny's surroundingsfrom herself, rather than from her servants.We bowled swiftly along Knightsbridge, the small noise of ourwell-appointed vehicle sounding hollowly in the morning air. We turnedup the Kensington Palace Road and presently stopped opposite a greathouse on the left-hand side, nearer, so far as I could judge, theNetting Hill than the Kensington end of the avenue. It was a truly finehouse, not only with regard to size but to architecture. Even in thedim grey light of the morning, which tends to diminish the size ofthings, it looked big.Miss Trelawny met me in the hall. She was not in anyway shy. Sheseemed to rule all around her with a sort of high-bred dominance, allthe more remarkable as she was greatly agitated and as pale as snow. Inthe great hall were several servants, the men standing together nearthe hall door, and the women clinging together in the further cornersand doorways. A police superintendent had been talking to MissTrelawny; two men in uniform and one plain-clothes man stood near him.As she took my hand impulsively there was a look of relief in her eyes,and she gave a gentle sigh of relief. Her salutation was simple.'I knew you would come!'The clasp of the hand can mean a great deal, even when it is notintended to mean anything especially. Miss Trelawny's hand somehowbecame lost in my own. It was not that it was a small hand; it was fineand flexible, with long delicate fingers--a rare and beautiful hand; itwas the unconscious self-surrender. And though at the moment I couldnot dwell on the cause of the thrill which swept me, it came back to melater.She turned and said to the police superintendent:'This is Mr. Malcolm Ross.' The police officer saluted as heanswered:T know Mr. Malcolm Ross, miss. Perhaps he will remember I had thehonour of working with him in the Brixton Coining case.' I had not atfirst glance noticed who it was, my whole attention having been takenwith Miss Trelawny.'Of course, Superintendent Dolan, I remember very well!' I said aswe shook hands. I could not but note that the acquaintanceship seemed arelief to Miss Trelawny. There was a certain vague uneasiness in hermanner which took my attention; instinctively I felt that it would beless embarrassing for her to speak with me alone. So I said to theSuperintendent:'Perhaps it will be better if Miss Trelawny will see me alone for afew minutes. You, of course, have already heard all she knows; and Iwill understand better how things are if I may ask some questions. Iwill then talk the matter over with you if I may.'I shall be glad to be of what service I can, sir,' he answeredheartily.Following Miss Trelawny, I moved over to a dainty room which openedfrom the hall and looked out on the garden at the back of the house.When we had entered and I had closed the door she said:'I will thank you later for your goodness in coming to me in mytrouble; but at present you can best help me when you know the facts.''Go on,' I said. 'Tell me all you know and spare no detail, howevertrivial it may at the present time seem to be.' She went on at once: 'I was awakened by some sound; I do not know what. I only know thatit came through my sleep; for all at once I found myself awake, with myheart beating wildly, listening anxiously for some sound from myFather's room. My room is next to Father's, and I can often hear himmoving about before I fall asleep. He works late at night, sometimesvery late indeed; so that when I wake early, as I do occasionally, orin the grey of the dawn, I hear him still moving. I tried once toremonstrate with him about staying up so late, as it cannot be good forhim; but I never ventured to repeat the experiment. You know how sternand cold he can be-- at least you may remember what I told you abouthim; and when he is polite in this mood he is dreadful. When he isangry I can bear it much better; but when he is slow and deliberate,and the side of his mouth lifts up to show the sharp teeth, I think Ifeel--well, I don't know how! Last night I got up softly and stole tothe door, for I really feared to disturb him. There was not any noiseof moving, and no kind of cry at all; but there was a queer kind ofdragging sound, and a slow, heavy breathing. Oh! it was dreadful,waiting there in the dark and the silence, and fearing-- fearing I didnot know what!'At last I took my courage a deux mains, and turning thehandle of the door as softly as I could, I opened the door a tiny bit.It was quite dark within; I could just see the outline of the windows.But in the darkness the sound of breathing, becoming more distinct, wasappalling. As I listened, this continued; but there was no other sound.I pushed the door open all at once. I was afraid to open it slowly; Ifelt as if there might be some dreadful thing behind it ready to pounceout on me! Then I switched on the electric light, and stepped into theroom. I looked first at the bed. The sheets were all crumpled up, sothat I knew Father had been in bed; but there was a great dark redpatch in the centre of the bed, and spreading to the edge of it, thatmade my heart stand still. As I was gazing at it the sound of thebreathing came across the room, and my eyes followed to it. There wasFather on his right side with the other arm under him, just as if hisdead body had been thrown there all in a heap. The track of blood wentacross the room up to the bed, and there was a pool all around himwhich looked terribly red and glittering as I bent over to examine him.The place where he lay was right in front of the big safe. He was inhis pyjamas. The left sleeve was torn, showing his bare arm, andstretched out toward the safe. It looked--oh! so terrible, patched allwith blood, and with the flesh torn or cut-all around a gold chainbangle on his wrist. I did not know he wore such a thing, and it seemedto give me a new shock of surprise.'She paused a moment; and as I wished to relieve her by a moment'sdivergence of thought, I said:'Oh, that need not surprise you. You will see the most unlikely menwearing bangles. I have seen a judge condemn a man to death and thewrist of the hand he held up had a gold bangle.' She did not seem toheed much the words or the idea; the pause, however, relieved hersomewhat, and she went on in a steadier voice:'I did not lose a moment in summoning aid, for I feared he mightbleed to death. I rang the bell, and then went out and called for helpas loudly as I could. In what must have been a very short time--thoughit seemed an incredibly long one to me--some of the servants camerunning up; and then others, till the room seemed full of staring eyes,and dishevelled hair, and night clothes of all sorts.'We lifted Father on a sofa; and the housekeeper, Mrs. Grant, whoseemed to have her wits about her more than any of us, began to lookwhere the flow of blood came from. In a few seconds it became apparentthat it came from the arm which was bare. There was a deep wound--notclean-cut as with a knife, but like a jagged rent or tear--close to thewrist, which seemed to have cut into the vein. Mrs. Grant tied ahandkerchief round the cut, and screwed it up tight with a silverpaper-cutter; and the flow of blood seemed to be checked at once. Bythis time I had come to my senses--or such of them as remained; and Isent off one man for the doctor and another for the police. When theyhad gone, I felt that, except for the servants, I was all alone in thehouse, and that I knew nothing--of my Father or anything else; and agreat longing came to me to have someone with me who could help me.Then I thought of you and your kind offer in the boat under thewillow-tree; and, without waiting to think, I told the men to get acarriage ready at once, and I scribbled a note and sent it on to you.'She paused. I did not like to say just then anything of how I felt.I looked at her, I think she understood, for her eyes were raised tomine for a moment and then fell, leaving her cheeks as red as peonyroses. With a manifest effort she went on with her story.'The Doctor was with us in an incredibly short time. The groom hadmet him letting himself into his house with his latchkey, and he cameto the house running. He made a proper tourniquet for poor Father'sarm, and then went home to get some appliances. I dare say he will beback here almost immediately. Then a policeman came, and he sent amessage to the station; and very soon the Superintendent was here. Thenyou came.'There was a long pause, and I ventured to take her hand for aninstant. Without a word more we opened the door, and joined theSuperintendent in the hall. He hurried up to us, saying as he came:'I have been examining everything myself, and have sent off amessage to Scotland Yard. You see, Mr. Ross, there seemed so much thatwas odd about the case that I thought we had better have the best manof the Criminal Investigation Department that we could get. So I sent anote asking to have Sergeant Daw sent at once. You remember him, sir,in that American Poisoning case at Hoxton.''Oh yes,' I said, 'I remember him well; in that and other cases, forI have benefited several times by his skill and acumen. He has a mindthat works as truly as any that I know. When I have been for thedefence, and believed my man was innocent, I was glad to have himagainst us!''That is high praise, sir!' said the Superintendent gratified: 'I amglad you approve of my choice; that I did well in sending for him.'I answered heartily:'Could not be better. I do not doubt that between you we shall getat the facts--and what lies behind them!'We ascended to Mr. Trelawny's room, where we found everythingexactly as his daughter had described.There came a ring at the house bell, and a minute later a man wasshown into the room. A young man with aquiline features, keen greyeyes, and a forehead that stood out square and broad as that of athinker. In his hand he had a black bag which he at once opened. MissTrelawny introduced us: 'Doctor Winchester, Mr. Ross, SuperintendentDolan.' We bowed mutually, and he, without a moment's delay, began hiswork. We all waited, and eagerly watched him as he proceeded to dressthe wound. As he went on he turned now and again to call theSuperintendent's attention to some point about the wound, the latterproceeding to enter the fact at once in his notebook.'See! Several parallel cuts or scratches beginning on the left sideof the wrist and in some places endangering the Radial artery."These small wounds here, deep and jagged, seem as if made with ablunt instrument. This in particular would seem as if made with somekind of sharp wedge; the flesh round it seems torn as if with lateralpressure.'Turning to Miss Trelawny he said presently:'Do you think we might remove this bangle? It is not absolutelynecessary, as it will fall lower on the wrist where it can hangloosely; but it might add to the patient's comfort later on.' The poorgirl flushed deeply as she answered in a low voice:'I do not know. I--I have only recently come to live with my Father;and I know so little of his life or his ideas that I fear I can hardlyjudge in such a matter.' The Doctor, after a keen glance at her, saidin a very kindly way:'Forgive me! I did not know. But in any case you need not bedistressed. It is not required at present to move it. Were it so Ishould do so at once on my own responsibility. If it be necessary lateron, we can easily remove it with a file. Your Father doubtless has someobject in keeping it as it is. See! there is a tiny key attached toit....' As he was speaking he stopped and bent lower, taking from myhand the candle which I held and lowering it till his light fell on thebangle. Then motioning me to hold the candle in the same position, hetook from his pocket a magnifying-glass which he adjusted. When he hadmade a careful examination he stood up and handed the magnifying-glassto Dolan, saying as he did so:'You had better examine it yourself. That is no ordinary bangle. Thegold is wrought over triple steel links; see where it is worn away. Itis manifestly not meant to be removed lightly; and it would need morethan an ordinary file to do it.'The Superintendent bent his great body; but not getting close enoughthat way knelt down by the sofa as the Doctor had done. He examined thebangle minutely, turning it slowly round so that no particle of itescaped observation. Then he stood up and handed the magnifying-glassto me. 'When you have examined it yourself,' he said, 'let the ladylook at it if she will,' and he commenced to write at length in hisnotebook.I made a simple alteration in his suggestion. I held out the glasstoward Miss Trelawny saying:'Had you not better examine it first?' She drew back, raisingslightly her hand in disclaimer, as she said impulsively:'Oh no! Father would doubtless have shown it to me had he wished meto see it. I would not like to without his consent.' Then she added,doubtless fearing lest her delicacy of view should give offence to therest of us:'Of course it is right that you should see it. You have to examineand consider everything; and indeed--indeed I am grateful to you....'She turned away; I could see that she was crying quietly. It wasevident to me that even in the midst of her trouble and anxiety therewas a chagrin that she knew so little of her father; and that herignorance had to be shown at such a time and amongst so many strangers.That they were all men did not make the shame more easy to bear, thoughthere was a certain relief in it. Trying to interpret her feelings Icould not but think that she must have been glad that no woman'seyes--of understanding greater than man's--were upon her in that hour.When I stood up from my examination, which verified to me that ofthe Doctor, the latter resumed his place beside the couch and went onwith his ministrations. Superintendent Dolan said to me in a whisper:'I think we are fortunate in our doctor!' I nodded, and was about toadd something in praise of his acumen, when there came a low tapping atthe door.