We were all silent, for we knew instinctively that this was only a prelude.  The faces of the others were set, and Harker’s grew ashen grey.  Perhaps, he guessed better than any of us what was coming.

She continued, “This is what I can give into the hotch-pot.”  I could not but note the quaint legal phrase which she used in such a place, and with all seriousness.  “What will each of you give?  Your lives I know,” she went on quickly, “that is easy for brave men.  Your lives are God’s, and you can give them back to Him, but what will you give to me?” She looked again questioningly, but this time avoided her husband’s face.  Quincey seemed to understand, he nodded, and her face lit up.  “Then I shall tell you plainly what I want, for there must be no doubtful matter in this connection between us now.  You must promise me, one and all, even you, my beloved husband, that should the time come, you will kill me.”

“What is that time?” The voice was Quincey’s, but it was low and strained.

“When you shall be convinced that I am so changed that it is better that I die that I may live.  When I am thus dead in the flesh, then you will, without a moment’s delay, drive a stake through me and cut off my head, or do whatever else may be wanting to give me rest!”

Quincey was the first to rise after the pause.  He knelt down before her and taking her hand in his said solemnly, “I’m only a rough fellow, who hasn’t, perhaps, lived as a man should to win such a distinction, but I swear to you by all that I hold sacred and dear that, should the time ever come, I shall not flinch from the duty that you have set us.  And I promise you, too, that I shall make all certain, for if I am only doubtful I shall take it that the time has come!”

“My true friend!” was all she could say amid her fast-falling tears, as bending over, she kissed his hand.

“I swear the same, my dear Madam Mina!” said Van Helsing.  “And I!” said Lord Godalming, each of them in turn kneeling to her to take the oath.  I followed, myself.

Then her husband turned to her wan-eyed and with a greenish pallor which subdued the snowy whiteness of his hair, and asked, “And must I, too, make such a promise, oh, my wife?”

“You too, my dearest,” she said, with infinite yearning of pity in her voice and eyes.  “You must not shrink.  You are nearest and dearest and all the world to me.  Our souls are knit into one, for all life and all time.  Think, dear, that there have been times when brave men have killed their wives and their womenkind, to keep them from falling into the hands of the enemy.  Their hands did not falter any the more because those that they loved implored them to slay them.  It is men’s duty towards those whom they love, in such times of sore trial!  And oh, my dear, if it is to be that I must meet death at any hand, let it be at the hand of him that loves me best.  Dr. Van Helsing, I have not forgotten your mercy in poor Lucy’s case to him who loved.”  She stopped with a flying blush, and changed her phrase, “to him who had best right to give her peace.  If that time shall come again, I look to you to make it a happy memory of my husband’s life that it was his loving hand which set me free from the awful thrall upon me.”