When all was ready, Van Helsing said, “Before we do anything, let me tell you this.  It is out of the lore and experience of the ancients and of all those who have studied the powers of the UnDead.  When they become such, there comes with the change the curse of immortality.  They cannot die, but must go on age after age adding new victims and multiplying the evils of the world.  For all that die from the preying of the Undead become themselves Undead, and prey on their kind.  And so the circle goes on ever widening, like as the ripples from a stone thrown in the water.  Friend Arthur, if you had met that kiss which you know of before poor Lucy die, or again, last night when you open your arms to her, you would in time, when you had died, have become nosferatu, as they call it in Eastern Europe, and would for all time make more of those Un-Deads that so have filled us with horror.  The career of this so unhappy dear lady is but just begun.  Those children whose blood she sucked are not as yet so much the worse, but if she lives on, UnDead, more and more they lose their blood and by her power over them they come to her, and so she draw their blood with that so wicked mouth.  But if she die in truth, then all cease.  The tiny wounds of the throats disappear, and they go back to their play unknowing ever of what has been.  But of the most blessed of all, when this now UnDead be made to rest as true dead, then the soul of the poor lady whom we love shall again be free.  Instead of working wickedness by night and growing more debased in the assimilating of it by day, she shall take her place with the other Angels.  So that, my friend, it will be a blessed hand for her that shall strike the blow that sets her free.  To this I am willing, but is there none amongst us who has a better right?  Will it be no joy to think of hereafter in the silence of the night when sleep is not, ’It was my hand that sent her to the stars.  It was the hand of him that loved her best, the hand that of all she would herself have chosen, had it been to her to choose?’ Tell me if there be such a one amongst us?”

We all looked at Arthur.  He saw too, what we all did, the infinite kindness which suggested that his should be the hand which would restore Lucy to us as a holy, and not an unholy, memory.  He stepped forward and said bravely, though his hand trembled, and his face was as pale as snow, “My true friend, from the bottom of my broken heart I thank you.  Tell me what I am to do, and I shall not falter!”

Van Helsing laid a hand on his shoulder, and said, “Brave lad!  A moment’s courage, and it is done.  This stake must be driven through her.  It well be a fearful ordeal, be not deceived in that, but it will be only a short time, and you will then rejoice more than your pain was great.  From this grim tomb you will emerge as though you tread on air.  But you must not falter when once you have begun.  Only think that we, your true friends, are round you, and that we pray for you all the time.”