Fjallkonan #5 | 9 February 1900

“MY DEAR MR. HARKER, I AM TRULY DISTRAUGHT THAT I wasn’t able to be here with you today. You must think poorly of the hospitality in this old house. Unfortunately, I could not come sooner and now I find you here in the dark. I sincerely ask for your forgiveness—my servants are not used to guests. Please excuse how primitive things are here in the Carpathians.” He lit the candles and closed the shutters. “I hope that you have now recovered from your journey. I am glad that you have found your way in here, for there is a lot here that may interest you. These books,” he said, pointing out the English volumes, “have been my friends for years; ever since I began to think about going to London—should I have the opportunity. It is thanks to them that I know about England, your pretty and powerful country. I long for London with its crowds and its commotion, its infinite activities, all that makes that big city what it is. I have lived alone for long enough. I want to get to know people.”

It was almost exactly what the mysterious girl had said, yet I felt a kind of cruelty in his voice. For a moment, it was as if I was looking upon a beast stalking its prey, and it sent shivers down my spine. The Count seemed to have noticed that I was a bit unnerved, because his strange eastern eyes⁹³ looked up at me from beneath his brows before he said in a changed tone,

“And how have you been during my absence?”

I said that I had slept for most of the day, at which he nodded and reassured me that it had been a good idea to sleep off my exertions.

“But what have you been doing since then?”

I told him truthfully that I had arranged my documents and found that the doors were locked. It had been mere chance that I had come across this reading room, and I hoped that he was not angry with me for entering.

“No, not at all! Here you are always welcome, and I hope that you will spend most of your time in this room while you are in my house. This is my usual place as well. I beg you to excuse me for locking the door to the corridor—I always do that out of old habit. You are, of course, welcome to look around our castle as much as you’d like. Unfortunately, most of the rooms are empty now and have been so for many years, while dust falls on a heap of relics from ancient times. Some of the rooms are locked, however, for reasons that no one needs to know. Old houses like this contain many things that outsiders are not meant to see, and I hope that you will respect that. Transylvania is not England—there is much here that British people will not understand.”

I bowed, so as to show my consent, but noticed that he was observing me persistently.

“I live here now,” he said, “like an old hermit in the house of my ancestors. I live in hoary memories, but I also observe what happens in the outside world—hearing merely the echo of it, here in this deserted corner of the earth. You might find it surprising that, although my hair is white, my heart is young, and it wants to take part in life outside these castle walls, where the destinies of nations are forged and the wars of this world are fought. I once played a role in this game and pulled quite a few of the strings.” His voice grew cold. “To rule, my young friend, to rule—that is the only thing worth living for, whether it be over people’s wills—or their hearts.”⁹⁴

He was silent for a moment, and then he spoke again.

“So you have been here most of the evening? It shortens the hours to read my books—but you had to wait for me in the twilight. I hope that you have managed to get some sleep?”

It was as if he was trying to find out whether I had noticed something unusual, and as I suspected it would be best⁹⁵ not to conceal anything from him, I told him the truth.

“I was admiring the sun setting over your mountains, as I have never seen anything more magnificent. And the air—the fragrance of the forest—was like a heady wine, intoxicating. I couldn’t step away from the window.”

“The window,” he said. “You have opened the window. The view is indeed stunning; these mountains are unique. But by Jove, assure me, you did close the window again before sundown?”