n him, and
catching him by the neck with both hands, dragged him back with a fury
of strength which I never thought he could have possessed, and
actually hurled him almost across the room.

"Not on your life!" he said, "not for your living soul and hers!" And
he stood between them like a lion at bay.

Arthur was so taken aback that he did not for a moment know what to do
or say, and before any impulse of violence could seize him he realized
the place and the occasion, and stood silent, waiting.

I kept my eyes fixed on Lucy, as did Van Helsing, and we saw a spasm
as of rage flit like a shadow over her face. The sharp teeth clamped
together. Then her eyes closed, and she breathed heavily.

Very shortly after she opened her eyes in all their softness, and
putting out her poor, pale, thin hand, took Van Helsing's great brown
one, drawing it close to her, she kissed it. "My true friend," she
said, in a faint voice, but with untellable pathos, "My true friend,
and his! Oh, guard him, and give me peace!"

"I swear it!" he said solemnly, kneeling beside her and holding up his
hand, as one who registers an oath. Then he turned to Arthur, and
said to him, "Come, my child, take her hand in yours, and kiss her on
the forehead, and only once."

Their eyes met instead of their lips, and so they parted. Lucy's eyes
closed, and Van Helsing, who had been watching closely, took Arthur's
arm, and drew him away.

And then Lucy's breathing became stertorous again, and all at once it
ceased.

"It is all over," said Van Helsing. "She is dead!"

I took Arthur by the arm, and led him away to the drawing room, where
he sat down, and covered his face with his hands, sobbing in a way
that nearly broke me down to see.

I went back to the room, and found Van Helsing looking at poor Lucy,
and his face was sterner than ever. Some change had come over her
body. Death had given back part of her beauty, for her brow and
cheeks had recovered some of their flowing lines. Even the lips had
lost their deadly pallor. It was as if the blood, no longer needed
for the working of the heart, had gone to make the harshness of death
as little rude as might be.

"We thought her dying whilst she slept, and sleeping when she died."

I stood beside Van Helsing, and said, "Ah well, poor girl, there is
peace for her at last. It is the end!"

He turned to me, and said with grave solemnity, "Not so, alas! Not
so. It is only the beginning!"