Fjallkonan #2 |19 January 1901

I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO BELIEVE. WAS IT POSSIBLE I MIGHT get away from here? Were my suspicions all uncalled for? If anything the Count said is to be taken seriously, I should be on the train to Budapest tomorrow night, and everything I have gone through here will remain an incomprehensible dream.

I sat at the table and thanked God that I’d now escaped all danger. Then I began to pack my luggage and prepare for my journey.

The ring was lying on the table and I felt compelled to see whether it would fit me—it was as if some invisible force were drawing me to it. As soon as I picked it up, it felt as though a burning current were streaming through my veins. Half unconscious, I fell onto the chair and threw the ring onto the table. I regained full awareness again soon thereafter.

I lay in the chair until late at night but eventually stood up, walked to my bedroom, and went soundly to sleep. When I woke up, I saw with dread: it was one o’clock! I had overslept! I rushed to my feet and dashed off to the dining room windows.

In the courtyard, nothing stirred. The Tatars had all left by now and the luggage that had been there was gone too. The Count’s calèche was not there either.

I ran down to the hall to find the driver and tell him I was ready to travel, but the gate was locked with a heavy bar in front of it. There was no hope of getting out.

Upon my return to the dining room I noticed that no food had been served on the table. I hurried into the octagonal room and stepped on the button to the secret door, hoping to escape the castle this way, but here, too, everything was securely locked.

I realized now I was imprisoned all alone inside the castle, like a mouse in a trap.

The whole building looked deserted. The Count’s writing desk was empty and the bookshelves mostly bare. The stationery had also been taken away; there was nothing left but the ring.

It turned six–, seven–, eight o’clock. Dusk was approaching. Absolute stillness ruled the castle. I was weak from hunger now. I tried to force open the secret door but failed.

I no longer doubted that the Count had locked me in intentionally, so that I would starve to death in this horrible tomb, or meet a fate even worse.

The darker it became, the more my mental vision sharpened, allowing much to enter my mind that I’m not writing down here. The Powers of Darkness²⁸¹ have taken counsel against me—I do not know for what purpose, but I see and know the danger. It seems as though I can hear someone whispering in my ear … I know that she is not far away from me … white arms, lovely lips. “When I am gone, you may have him,” the Count had said—or had it been a dream?

No, I will not sell my soul! I do not hear these false voices—I want to be a man.²⁸²

If you ever read these lines, Wilma, then you know that I am dead, and that I have always loved you and been faithful to you.

___________________

I have now decided what I’m going to do. I’ve torn up my bedsheets and braided them into a rope, which I hope will hold me. With this rope I intend to let myself down from the window once daylight has come, and I’ll try to reach the ledge. It’s risky, but it might work. If I fail, nothing worse than death can happen to me.

It’s getting lighter: dawn is breaking.

I have attached the rope; I am ready now.

And so, a final goodbye, dear Wilma. Please forgive me for all that I may have done to you, and you may be certain that I have always loved you and no one but you.