with passion. I was
thunderstruck, for such a thing as a patient getting of his own accord
into the Superintendent's study is almost unknown.

Without an instant's notice he made straight at me. He had a dinner
knife in his hand, and as I saw he was dangerous, I tried to keep the
table between us. He was too quick and too strong for me, however,
for before I could get my balance he had struck at me and cut my left
wrist rather severely.

Before he could strike again, however, I got in my right hand and he
was sprawling on his back on the floor. My wrist bled freely, and
quite a little pool trickled on to the carpet. I saw that my friend
was not intent on further effort, and occupied myself binding up my
wrist, keeping a wary eye on the prostrate figure all the time. When
the attendants rushed in, and we turned our attention to him, his
employment positively sickened me. He was lying on his belly on the
floor licking up, like a dog, the blood which had fallen from my
wounded wrist. He was easily secured, and to my surprise, went with
the attendants quite placidly, simply repeating over and over again,
"The blood is the life! The blood is the life!"

I cannot afford to lose blood just at present. I have lost too much
of late for my physical good, and then the prolonged strain of Lucy's
illness and its horrible phases is telling on me. I am over excited
and weary, and I need rest, rest, rest. Happily Van Helsing has not
summoned me, so I need not forego my sleep. Tonight I could not well
do without it.

TELEGRAM, VAN HELSING, ANTWERP, TO SEWARD, CARFAX

(Sent to Carfax, Sussex, as no county given, delivered late
by twenty-two hours.)

17 September.--Do not fail to be at Hilllingham tonight.
If not watching all the time, frequently visit and see that
flowers are as placed, very important, do not fail. Shall
be with you as soon as possible after arrival.

DR. SEWARD'S DIARY

18 September.--Just off train to London. The arrival of Van
Helsing's telegram filled me with dismay. A whole night lost,
and I know by bitter experience what may happen in a night.
Of course it is possible that all may be well, but what may
have happened? Surely there is some horrible doom hanging over us
that every possible accident should thwart us in all we try to do.
I shall take this cylinder with me, and then I can complete
my entry on Lucy's phonograph.

MEMORANDUM LEFT BY LUCY WESTENRA

17 September