It was a lonely vigil.  Just after I had taken my place I heard a distant clock strike twelve, and in time came one and two.  I was chilled and unnerved, and angry with the Professor for taking me on such an errand and with myself for coming.  I was too cold and too sleepy to be keenly observant, and not sleepy enough to betray my trust, so altogether I had a dreary, miserable time.

Suddenly, as I turned round, I thought I saw something like a white streak, moving between two dark yew trees at the side of the churchyard farthest from the tomb.  At the same time a dark mass moved from the Professor’s side of the ground, and hurriedly went towards it.  Then I too moved, but I had to go round headstones and railed-off tombs, and I stumbled over graves.  The sky was overcast, and somewhere far off an early cock crew.  A little ways off, beyond a line of scattered juniper trees, which marked the pathway to the church, a white dim figure flitted in the direction of the tomb.  The tomb itself was hidden by trees, and I could not see where the figure had disappeared.  I heard the rustle of actual movement where I had first seen the white figure, and coming over, found the Professor holding in his arms a tiny child.  When he saw me he held it out to me, and said, “Are you satisfied now?”

“No,” I said, in a way that I felt was aggressive.

“Do you not see the child?”

“Yes, it is a child, but who brought it here?  And is it wounded?”

“We shall see,” said the Professor, and with one impulse we took our way out of the churchyard, he carrying the sleeping child.

When we had got some little distance away, we went into a clump of trees, and struck a match, and looked at the child’s throat.  It was without a scratch or scar of any kind.

“Was I right?” I asked triumphantly.

“We were just in time,” said the Professor thankfully.

We had now to decide what we were to do with the child, and so consulted about it.  If we were to take it to a police station we should have to give some account of our movements during the night.  At least, we should have had to make some statement as to how we had come to find the child.  So finally we decided that we would take it to the Heath, and when we heard a policeman coming, would leave it where he could not fail to find it.  We would then seek our way home as quickly as we could.  All fell out well.  At the edge of Hampstead Heath we heard a policeman’s heavy tramp, and laying the child on the pathway, we waited and watched until he saw it as he flashed his lantern to and fro.  We heard his exclamation of astonishment, and then we went away silently.  By good chance we got a cab near the ‘Spainiards,’ and drove to town.

I cannot sleep, so I make this entry.  But I must try to get a few hours’ sleep, as Van Helsing is to call for me at noon.  He insists that I go with him on another expedition.