at to wake would be to find things changed, and that any change must
now be for the better. Before we parted, we discussed what our next
step was to be, but we could arrive at no result. All we knew was
that one earth box remained, and that the Count alone knew where it
was. If he chooses to lie hidden, he may baffle us for years. And in
the meantime, the thought is too horrible, I dare not think of it even
now. This I know, that if ever there was a woman who was all
perfection, that one is my poor wronged darling. I loved her a
thousand times more for her sweet pity of last night, a pity that made
my own hate of the monster seem despicable. Surely God will not
permit the world to be the poorer by the loss of such a creature. This
is hope to me. We are all drifting reefwards now, and faith is our
only anchor. Thank God! Mina is sleeping, and sleeping without
dreams. I fear what her dreams might be like, with such terrible
memories to ground them in. She has not been so calm, within my
seeing, since the sunset. Then, for a while, there came over her face
a repose which was like spring after the blasts of March. I thought
at the time that it was the softness of the red sunset on her face,
but somehow now I think it has a deeper meaning. I am not sleepy
myself, though I am weary . . . weary to death. However, I must try
to sleep. For there is tomorrow to think of, and there is no rest for
me until . . .

Later--I must have fallen asleep, for I was awakened by Mina, who was
sitting up in bed, with a startled look on her face. I could see
easily, for we did not leave the room in darkness. She had placed a
warning hand over my mouth, and now she whispered in my ear, "Hush!
There is someone in the corridor!" I got up softly, and crossing the
room, gently opened the door.

Just outside, stretched on a mattress, lay Mr. Morris, wide awake. He
raised a warning hand for silence as he whispered to me, "Hush! Go
back to bed. It is all right. One of us will be here all night. We
don't mean to take any chances!"

His look and gesture forbade discussion, so I came back and told Mina.
She sighed and positively a shadow of a smile stole over her poor,
pale face as she put her arms round me and said softly, "Oh, thank God
for good brave men!" With a sigh she sank back again to sleep. I
write this now as I am not sleepy, though I must try again.

4 October, morning.--Once again during the night I was wak