Renfield proceeded.  “He came up to the window in the mist, as I had seen him often before, but he was solid then, not a ghost, and his eyes were fierce like a man’s when angry.  He was laughing with his red mouth, the sharp white teeth glinted in the moonlight when he turned to look back over the belt of trees, to where the dogs were barking.  I wouldn’t ask him to come in at first, though I knew he wanted to, just as he had wanted all along.  Then he began promising me things, not in words but by doing them.”

He was interrupted by a word from the Professor, “How?”

“By making them happen.  Just as he used to send in the flies when the sun was shining.  Great big fat ones with steel and sapphire on their wings.  And big moths, in the night, with skull and cross-bones on their backs.”

Van Helsing nodded to him as he whispered to me unconsciously, “The Acherontia Atropos of the Sphinges, what you call the ’Death’s-head Moth’?”

The patient went on without stopping, “Then he began to whisper.  ’Rats, rats, rats!  Hundreds, thousands, millions of them, and every one a life.  And dogs to eat them, and cats too.  All lives!  All red blood, with years of life in it, and not merely buzzing flies!’ I laughed at him, for I wanted to see what he could do.  Then the dogs howled, away beyond the dark trees in His house.  He beckoned me to the window.  I got up and looked out, and He raised his hands, and seemed to call out without using any words.  A dark mass spread over the grass, coming on like the shape of a flame of fire.  And then He moved the mist to the right and left, and I could see that there were thousands of rats with their eyes blazing red, like His only smaller.  He held up his hand, and they all stopped, and I thought he seemed to be saying, ’All these lives will I give you, ay, and many more and greater, through countless ages, if you will fall down and worship me!’ And then a red cloud, like the colour of blood, seemed to close over my eyes, and before I knew what I was doing, I found myself opening the sash and saying to Him, ‘Come in, Lord and Master!’ The rats were all gone, but He slid into the room through the sash, though it was only open an inch wide, just as the Moon herself has often come in through the tiniest crack and has stood before me in all her size and splendour.”

His voice was weaker, so I moistened his lips with the brandy again, and he continued, but it seemed as though his memory had gone on working in the interval for his story was further advanced.  I was about to call him back to the point, but Van Helsing whispered to me, “Let him go on.  Do not interrupt him.  He cannot go back, and maybe could not proceed at all if once he lost the thread of his thought.”

He proceeded, “All day I waited to hear from him, but he did not send me anything, not even a blowfly, and when the moon got up I was pretty angry with him.  When he did slide in through the window, though it was shut, and did not even knock, I got mad with him.  He sneered at me, and his white face looked out of the mist with his red eyes gleaming, and he went on as though he owned the whole place, and I was no one.  He didn’t even smell the same as he went by me.  I couldn’t hold him.  I thought that, somehow, Mrs. Harker had come into the room.”