hinks of the loaves and fishes
even when he believes his is in a real Presence. His manias make a
startling combination. When we closed in on him he fought like a
tiger. He is immensely strong, for he was more like a wild beast than
a man.

I never saw a lunatic in such a paroxysm of rage before, and I hope I
shall not again. It is a mercy that we have found out his strength and
his danger in good time. With strength and determination like his, he
might have done wild work before he was caged.

He is safe now, at any rate. Jack Sheppard himself couldn't get free
from the strait waistcoat that keeps him restrained, and he's chained
to the wall in the padded room.

His cries are at times awful, but the silences that follow are more
deadly still, for he means murder in every turn and movement.

Just now he spoke coherent words for the first time. "I shall be
patient, Master. It is coming, coming, coming!"

So I took the hint, and came too. I was too excited to sleep, but this
diary has quieted me, and I feel I shall get some sleep tonight.

CHAPTER 9

LETTER, MINA HARKER TO LUCY WESTENRA

Buda-Pesth, 24 August.

"My dearest Lucy,

"I know you will be anxious to hear all that has happened
since we parted at the railway station at Whitby.

"Well, my dear, I got to Hull all right, and caught the boat to
Hamburg, and then the train on here. I feel that I can hardly
recall anything of the journey, except that I knew I was coming to
Jonathan, and that as I should have to do some nursing, I had better
get all the sleep I could. I found my dear one, oh, so thin and
pale and weak-looking. All the resolution has gone out of his dear
eyes, and that quiet dignity which I told you was in his face has
vanished. He is only a wreck of himself, and he does not remember
anything that has happened to him for a long time past. At least,
he wants me to believe so, and I shall never ask.

"He has had some terrible shock, and I fear it might tax his poor
brain if he were to try to recall it. Sister Agatha, who is a good
creature and a born nurse, tells me that he wanted her to tell me
what they were, but she would only cross herself, and say she would
never tell. That the ravings of the sick were the secrets of God,
and that if a nurse through her vocation should hear them, she
should respect her trust.

"She is a sweet, good soul, and the next day, when she saw I was
troubled, she opened up the subject