I awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt, the Count
I awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt, the Count
must have carried me here. I tried to satisfy myself on the
subject, but could not arrive at any unquestionable result. To be
sure, there were certain small evidences, such as that my clothes
were folded and laid by in a manner which was not my habit. My
watch was still unwound, and I am rigorously accustomed to wind it
the last thing before going to bed, and many such details. But
these things are no proof, for they may have been evidences that my
mind was not as usual, and, for some cause or another, I had
certainly been much upset. I must watch for proof. Of one thing I
am glad. If it was that the Count carried me here and undressed me,
he must have been hurried in his task, for my pockets are intact. I
am sure this diary would have been a mystery to him which he would
not have brooked. He would have taken or destroyed it. When I got to the doorway at the top of
the stairs I found it closed. It had been so forcibly driven
against the jamb that part of the woodwork was splintered. I could
see that the bolt of the lock had not been shot, but the door is
fastened from the inside. I fear it was no dream, and must act on
this surmise.
19 May.—I am surely in the toils. Last night the Count asked me
in the sauvest tones to write three letters, one saying that my
work here was nearly done, and that I should start for home within
a few days, another that I was starting on the next morning from
the time of the letter, and the third that I had left the castle
and arrived at Bistritz. I would fain have rebelled, but felt that
in the present state of things it would be madness to quarrel
openly with the Count whilst I am so absolutely in his power. And
to refuse would be to excite his suspicion and to arouse his anger.
He knows that I know too much, and that I must not live, lest I be
dangerous to him. My only chance is to prolong my opportunities.
Something may occur which will give me a chance to escape. I saw in
his eyes something of that gathering wrath which was manifest when
he hurled that fair woman from him. He explained to me that posts
were few and uncertain, and that my writing now would ensure ease
of mind to my friends. And he assured me with so much
impressiveness that he would countermand the later letters, which
would be held over at Bistritz until due time in case chance would
admit of my prolonging my stay, that to oppose him would have been
to create new suspicion. I therefore pretended to fall in with his
views, and asked him what dates I should put on the letters.
He calculated a minute, and then said, “The first should be June
12,the second June 19,and the third June 29.”
God help me!
28 May.—There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being
able to send word home. A band of Szgany have come to the castle,
and are encamped in the courtyard. These are gipsies. I have notes
of them in my book. They are peculiar to this part of the world,
though allied to the ordinary