Dracula - the novel - brought up to date – Episode 6
Sorry this is late, I’ve been away for a longer weekend than I anticipated.
I read the novel Dracula years ago. I struggled to read it at first because of the language – not that English isn’t my first language, it is, but this book was written so long ago and our language has changed and evolved so much that it’s getting difficult to understand easily. Because of that, I decided to take Dracula and edit it to fit in better with modern-day language.
Here’s the project I set myself then. I hope you enjoy it… it’s taken quite a while.
Pictures from Google Images - licenced for re-use
DRACULA
by
Bram Stoker
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
Publishers
Copyright, 1897, in the United States of America, according to Act of Congress, by Bram Stoker
[All rights reserved.]
TO MY DEAR FRIEND HOMMY-BEG
Continued...
I found supper laid out. My host, who stood on one side of the fireplace, leaning against the stonework, made a graceful wave of his hand to the table, and said, "I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will, I trust, excuse me that I do not join you; but I have dined already, and I do not sup."
I thought his speech was a little old-fashioned and wondered why I’d not noticed it before; shaking off the thought, I handed to him the sealed letter Mr. Hawkins wanted me to deliver.
He opened it and read it with a frown creasing his brow; then, with a charming smile, he handed it to me to read. One passage of it, at least, gave me a thrill of pleasure.
"I must regret that an attack of gout, from which I suffer, forbids travelling for some time to come; but I am happy to say I can send a substitute, one in whom I have every confidence. He is a young man, full of energy and talent, and of a faithful disposition. He is discreet and has grown in my service. He shall be ready to attend you whenever you need him during his stay, and he shall take your instructions in all matters."
The Count himself came forward and removed the cover of a dish. I didn’t need telling twice, it was an excellent roast chicken. This, with some cheese, a salad and a bottle of old Tokay, of which I had two glasses, was my supper. During the time I was eating supper, the Count asked me many questions about my journey, and, between bites, I told him everything.
I finished my supper, and my host invited me to draw up a chair by the fire and he offered me a cigar, at the same time excusing himself that he did not smoke. I took the opportunity of observing him, and found him of a striking appearance.
His face was strong, almost aquiline, with thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils. His head, with lofty domed forehead, was almost bald, just hair growing scantily round the temples but plentifully elsewhere. His eyebrows were massive, curling with a will of their own and almost meeting over the nose.
The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy moustache, was fixed and cruel-looking, with noticeably sharp, white teeth; the teeth protruded over the lips, whose remarkable fullness and bright colour showed astonishing vitality in a man of his years. His ears were pale, pointed at the top. The general effect was one of extraordinary sallowness.
I’d noticed the backs of his hands by the firelight, and they had seemed white and delicate; but seeing them close up, I couldn’t help notice they were coarse - broad, with squat fingers. Strange to say, there were hairs in the centre of his palms. His nails were long and fine, and cut to a sharp point.
As the Count leaned towards me, I couldn’t repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me that I couldn’t conceal. The Count, evidently noticed it and drew back. With a grim sort of smile, which showed more of his protuberant teeth, sat down again on his own side of the fireplace. We were silent for a while; and as I looked towards the window, I saw the first dim streak of dawn.
A strange stillness had settled over everything; but as I listened, I heard from down in the valley, the howling of wolves.
The Count's eyes gleamed, and he said: -
"Listen to them - the children of the night. What music they make!"
Seeing, I suppose, the expression on my face, he added, "Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings of the hunter."
Then he rose and said, "But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and tomorrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away till the afternoon; so sleep well and dream!"
With a courteous bow, he opened the door to the octagonal room for me, and I entered my bedroom.
I am all at sea. I doubt, I fear, I think strange things which I dare not confess to my own soul.
God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!
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