Page 269 - DRACULA
P. 269
Dracula
Helsing’s sternness was somewhat relieved by a look of
perplexity. He was evidently torturing his mind about
something, so I waited for an instant, and he spoke.
‘What are we to do now? Where are we to turn for
help? We must have another transfusion of blood, and that
soon, or that poor girl’s life won’t be worth an hour’s
purchase. You are exhausted already. I am exhausted too. I
fear to trust those women, even if they would have
courage to submit. What are we to do for some one who
will open his veins for her?’
‘What’s the matter with me, anyhow?’
The voice came from the sofa across the room, and its
tones brought relief and joy to my heart, for they were
those of Quincey Morris.
Van Helsing started angrily at the first sound, but his
face softened and a glad look came into his eyes as I cried
out, ‘Quincey Morris!’ and rushed towards him with
outstretched hands.
‘What brought you here?’ I cried as our hands met.
‘I guess Art is the cause.’
He handed me a telegram.—‘Have not heard from
Seward for three days, and am terribly anxious. Cannot
leave. Father still in same condition. Send me word how
Lucy is. Do not delay.—Holmwood.’
268 of 684