XV. Dr. Seward’s Diary

the churchyard at Kingstead.” Arthur’s face fell as he said in an amazed sort of way:⁠— “Where poor Lucy is buried?” The Professor bowed. Arthur went on: “And when there?” “To enter the tomb!” Arthur stood up. “Professor, are you in earnest; or it is some monstrous joke? Pardon me, I see that you are in earnest.” He sat down again, but I could see that he sat firmly and proudly, as one who is on his dignity. There was silence until he asked again:⁠— “And when in the tomb?” “To open the coffin.” “This is too much!” he said, angrily rising again. “I am willing to be patient in all things that are reasonable; but in this⁠—this desecration of the grave⁠—of one who⁠—” He fairly choked with indignation. The Professor looked pityingly at him. “If I could spare you one pang, my poor friend,” he said, “God knows I would. But this night our feet must tread in thorny paths; or later, and forever, the feet you love must walk in paths of flame!” Arthur looked up with set white face and said:⁠— “Take care, sir, take care!” “Would it not be well to hear what I have to say?” said Van Helsing. “And then you will at least know the limit of my purpose. Shall I go on?” “That’s fair enough,” broke in Morris. After a pause Van Helsing went on, evidently with an effort:⁠— “Miss Lucy is dead; is it not so? Yes! Then there can be no wrong to her. But if she be not dead⁠—” Arthur jumped to his feet. “Good God!” he cried. “What do you mean? Has there been any mistake; has she been buried alive?” He groaned in anguish that not even hope could soften. “I did not say she was alive, my child; I did not think it. I go no further than to say that she might be Un-Dead.” “Un-Dead! Not alive! What do you mean? Is this all a nightmare, or what is it?” “There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age they may solve only