17 JUNE

YESTERDAY THE COUNT TOLD ME THAT HE WOULD BE away from home all day, and I used the opportunity to explore the eastern tower.²⁶⁰

As all the other routes were barred, I had to go up to the portrait gallery. Physically, I haven’t been up there since I received that kiss in the flash of lightning, but in my thoughts and fantasies I’ve visited that floor often, which is why, with all my might, I’ve avoided actually going up there.²⁶¹ I’d concluded that this was her home and that she would be able to overpower me in it.

Still, I’ve only seen her at dusk or at night. During the daytime I’ve never met her, nor have I felt the desires that attract me to her.

So I was not afraid to go up to the top floor now.

The sun shone through the dusty window panes, bathing the paintings in the gallery in daylight. But I didn’t dare look at them, for at the same moment as I opened the door, I felt as if the lady in the large portrait on the other side of the room were rising up, spreading her arms out towards me. I hurried through the hall and another series of rooms, all decorated and furnished in a style common during the days of Napoleon I. Finally I reached a winged door that I guessed would lead to the tower. It wasn’t fastened, but the lock was stiff with rust.

Upon entering I saw a circular room with a bed in the center. It was a large, colorful bed with a canopy over its headboard. Looking up to the baldachin, one could see a portrait of Amor with his bow. The room’s ceiling was painted in clouds—like the sky in spring—with playful Cupids peeking out from behind the woolpacks. It was as if I were in the bedroom of the goddess Venus herself.

Wanting to see whether anyone had slept in it recently, I moved towards the bed, but I immediately saw that a thick layer of dust had settled on the silk duvet and that cobwebs²⁶² covered the headboard. A full lifetime or more must have passed since anyone had slept in this bed. On the yellow pillow was a dark stain that once must have been as red as blood. Surely someone had lost their life here when that blood flowed from the pillow onto the floor—where a black blotch bears witness to a crime committed a long time ago.

I have no doubt that this was where the jealous husband took his cruel vengeance on his beautiful wife, who was completely in his power. “No one saw or heard anything; nobody dared to ask anything. She was lying dead in her bed and that was all that people knew. She was dressed in the clothes she had worn in her portrait, and then placed in her coffin. She rests in the chapel, where most members of the House of Dracula rest, but as you see, my friend, she will always remain beautiful as ever”—the Count once told me.

I thought I could hear the Count’s voice saying this, and memories of the things I had experienced since came to mind. – – –

I hurried to a window and opened it. It was hundreds of feet up from here to the ground—and this was probably the window from which the Countess’s lover had jumped.

Beneath this window lay a gorge with a foaming waterfall. I tried to calm myself and went to the window on the other side of the room, located next to the rear facade of the castle.²⁶³ From there I could clearly see which way the man had taken to the other night.

I had my spyglass with me, and when I leaned out I saw footholds—barely visible to the naked eye—carved into the wall. I also discovered iron hooks, which were obviously intended to be held on to. By following this route, one could apparently reach the ledge on the wall where I had seen the man make his way. Now I just have to find out how to get to this ledge from the rooms I occupy, and I hope—with God’s help—that I will succeed.