Дракула / Dracula. Брэм Стокер
almost disappeared. When I came in he ran to me and said he wanted to ask me a great favour – a very, very great favour. I asked him what it was, and he said, with a sort of rapture in his voice, “A kitten, a nice little, sleek playful kitten, I want to play with it, teach it, and feed it – and feed – and feed!”
I could see his face; there was a warning of danger in it, for there was a sudden fierce, sidelong look which meant killing. The man is a maniac.
20 July. – I visited Renfield very early. He was spreading out his sugar, which he had saved. I looked around for his birds, and did not see them. I asked him where they were. He replied that they had all flown away. There were a few feathers in the room and on his pillow a drop of blood. I said nothing.
20 July, 11 a.m. – The attendant said that Renfield was very sick and disgorged a whole lot of feathers. “I am sure, doctor,” he said, “that he has eaten his birds!”
Mina Murray’s Journal
26 July. – I am anxious. I am unhappy about Lucy and about Jonathan. I had not heard from Jonathan for some time; but yesterday dear Mr. Hawkins, who is always so kind, sent me a letter from him. It is only a line dated from Castle Dracula, and says that he is just starting for home. That is not like Jonathan; I do not understand it, and it makes me uneasy. Then, too, Lucy, although she is so well, has lately taken to her old habit of walking in her sleep.[74] Her mother has spoken to me about it, and we have decided that I must lock the door of our room every night. Mrs. Westenra is naturally anxious about Lucy, and she tells me that her husband, Lucy’s father, had the same habit.
27 July. – No news from Jonathan. I am getting quite uneasy about him. Lucy walks more than ever, and each night she moves about the room. Fortunately, the weather is so hot that she cannot get cold.
3 August. – Still no news from Jonathan, not even to Mr. Hawkins. Oh, I hope he is not ill. I look at his last letter, but somehow it does not satisfy me. I think it is not his letter writing. Lucy has not walked much in her sleep the last week, but even in her sleep she is watching me. She tries the door, and if it is locked, she goes about the room and searches for the key.
6 August. – Another three days, and no news. It is getting dreadful. Where to write? Where to go? No one has heard a word of Jonathan since that last letter. I must only pray to God for patience. Lucy is more excitable than ever.
One day the coastguard[75] came along, with his spyglass[76] under his arm. He stopped to talk with me, as he always does, but all the time he was looking at a strange ship.
“I can’t understand what ship it is,” he said. “Look there! Who is the captain? The ship changes about with every puff of wind.[77] We’ll hear more of this ship before this time tomorrow.”
9 August. Whitby. – As to the strange ship… There was a dead man steering it. The man was simply fastened by his hands, tied one over the other, to a spoke of the wheel. It is a Russian ship, and is called the Demeter.[78] There were some great wooden boxes filled with mould on it. This cargo was consigned to a Whitby solicitor, Mr. S. F. Billington,[79] of 7, The Crescent,[80] who this morning went aboard and took the boxes. There was a dog on the ship, but it ran away and nobody could find it.
Log of the Demeter[81]
6 July. Varna to Whitby. – We finished taking in cargo, silver sand[82] and boxes of earth. East wind, fresh. Five sailors… two mates, cook, and myself (captain).
11 July. – At dawn entered Bosphorus.[83]
12 July. – Through Dardanelles.[84] At dark passed into Archipelago.
13 July. – Passed Cape Matapan.[85] Crew dissatisfied about something. Seemed scared.
14 July. – Somewhat anxious about crew. Something wrong; crew crossed themselves.[86]
16 July. – One of crew, Petrofsky,[87] is missing. Could not find him. Men say that there was something aboard. Mate gets very impatient; feared some trouble ahead.
17 July. – Yesterday, one of the men, Olgaren,[88] came to my cabin, and in an awestruck told me that he thought there was a strange man aboard the ship. He said he saw a tall, thin man, who was not like any of the crew. That man went along the deck, and disappeared. He followed cautiously, but he found no one, and the hatchways were all closed. He was in a panic of superstitious fear, and I am afraid the panic may spread.
We searched everywhere. There were only the big wooden boxes, there were no odd corners where a man could hide. First mate scowled, but said nothing.
22 July. – Rough weather last three days – no time to be frightened. Passed Gibraltar.[89] All well.
24 July. – Last night another man lost. Like the first, he came off his watch[90] and disappeared. Men all in a panic of fear; ask to have double watch,[91] as they fear to be alone. Mate angry. Fear there will be some trouble.
28 July. – Four days in hell, maelstrom, a tempest. No sleep for any one. Men all worn out.
29 July. – Another tragedy. Second mate disappeared. Thorough search, but found no one. We are now without second mate, and crew in a panic.
30 July. – Last night. We are near England. Weather is fine. Slept soundly;[92] awaked by mate. He said that both man of watch and steersman were missing. Only myself and mate and two hands sailors left.
1 August. – Two days of fog. Mate now demoralized.
2 August, midnight. – Could see nothing in fog. Rushed on deck. No sign of man on watch. One more gone.[93] Lord, help us! Only God can guide us in the fog, which moves with us.
3 August. – I did not find the man at the wheel. After a few seconds he rushed up on deck in his flannels.[94] He looked haggard. He came close to me and whispered hoarsely, with his mouth to my ear, “It is here; I know it now. On the watch last night I saw It, like a man, tall and thin, and ghastly pale. I crept behind It, and gave It my knife;[95] but the knife went through It, empty as the air.” And as he spoke he took his knife and drove it savagely into space. Then he went on, “But It is here, and I’ll find It. It is perhaps in one of those boxes. I’ll open them and see.” He is mad, stark, raving mad. He can’t hurt those big boxes: they are marked as “clay”. So here I stay, and write these notes. I can only trust in God and wait till the fog clears.
The mate ran up on the deck. “Save me! Save me!” he cried, and then looked round. His horror turned to despair, and in a steady voice he said, “Come with me too, captain, before it is too late. He is there. I know the secret now. The sea will save me from Him!” Before I could say a word, or move forward to seize him, he sprang on the bulwark and deliberately threw himself into the sea. I suppose I know the secret too, now. It was this madman who had killed the men one by one,[96] and now he has followed them himself. God help me! When I get to port! Will that ever be?
4
old habit of walking in sleep – старая привычка ходить во сне
coastguard – охранник береговой службы
spyglass – подзорная труба
changes about with every puff of wind – меняет направление с каждым порывом ветра
Mr. S. F. Billington – мистер С. Ф. Биллингтон
The Crescent – Кресент (
Log of the
silver sand – серебристый песок
Bosphorus – Босфор (
Dardanelles – Дарданеллы (
Cape Matapan – мыс Матапан
to cross oneself – креститься
Petrofsky – Петровский
Olgaren – Олгарен
Gibraltar – Гибралтар (
came off his watch – закончил свою вахту
to have double watch – нести вахту вдвоём
slept soundly – спал крепко
One more gone. – Пропал ещё один.
in his flannels – в нижнем белье
gave It my knife – ударил Его своим ножом
one by one – одного за другим