“About ten days.”

“Ten days!  Then I guess, Jack Seward, that that poor pretty creature that we all love has had put into her veins within that time the blood of four strong men.  Man alive, her whole body wouldn’t hold it.”  Then coming close to me, he spoke in a fierce half-whisper.  “What took it out?”

I shook my head.  “That,” I said, “is the crux.  Van Helsing is simply frantic about it, and I am at my wits’ end.  I can’t even hazard a guess.  There has been a series of little circumstances which have thrown out all our calculations as to Lucy being properly watched.  But these shall not occur again.  Here we stay until all be well, or ill.”

Quincey held out his hand.  “Count me in,” he said.  “You and the Dutchman will tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

When she woke late in the afternoon, Lucy’s first movement was to feel in her breast, and to my surprise, produced the paper which Van Helsing had given me to read.  The careful Professor had replaced it where it had come from, lest on waking she should be alarmed.  Her eyes then lit on Van Helsing and on me too, and gladdened.  Then she looked round the room, and seeing where she was, shuddered.  She gave a loud cry, and put her poor thin hands before her pale face.

We both understood what was meant, that she had realized to the full her mother’s death.  So we tried what we could to comfort her.  Doubtless sympathy eased her somewhat, but she was very low in thought and spirit, and wept silently and weakly for a long time.  We told her that either or both of us would now remain with her all the time, and that seemed to comfort her.  Towards dusk she fell into a doze.  Here a very odd thing occurred.  Whilst still asleep she took the paper from her breast and tore it in two.  Van Helsing stepped over and took the pieces from her.  All the same, however, she went on with the action of tearing, as though the material were still in her hands.  Finally she lifted her hands and opened them as though scattering the fragments.  Van Helsing seemed surprised, and his brows gathered as if in thought, but he said nothing.

19 September.—­All last night she slept fitfully, being always afraid to sleep, and something weaker when she woke from it.  The Professor and I took in turns to watch, and we never left her for a moment unattended.  Quincey Morris said nothing about his intention, but I knew that all night long he patrolled round and round the house.

When the day came, its searching light showed the ravages in poor Lucy’s strength.  She was hardly able to turn her head, and the little nourishment which she could take seemed to do her no good.  At times she slept, and both Van Helsing and I noticed the difference in her, between sleeping and waking.  Whilst asleep she looked stronger, although more haggard, and her breathing was softer.  Her open mouth showed the pale gums drawn back from the teeth, which looked positively longer and sharper than usual.  When she woke the softness of her eyes evidently changed the expression, for she looked her own self, although a dying one.  In the afternoon she asked for Arthur, and we telegraphed for him.  Quincey went off to meet him at the station.