Some time after I had finished my meal – I do not know whether to call it breakfast or dinner, for it was between five and six o’clock when I had it – I looked about for something to read. There was absolutely nothing in the room, book, newspaper; so I opened another door in the room and found a library.

In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of English books and volumes of magazines and newspapers. The books were on history, geography, politics, political economy, botany, geology, law – all relating to England and English life, customs and manners.

While I was looking at the books, the door opened, and the Count entered. He saluted me in a hearty way. [32] Then he went on.

“I am glad you found your way in here. These books have been good friends to me, and for some years past, since I had the idea of going to London, they have given me many, many hours of pleasure. Through them I knew your great England; and to know it is to love it. I studied English through books, and you, my friend, will you help me to speak it better?”

“But, Count,” I said, “You know and speak English thoroughly!”

He bowed gravely.

“I thank you, my friend, for your estimate. True, I know the grammar and the words, but I do not know how to speak them.”

“Indeed,” I said, “you speak excellently.”

“Not so,” he answered. “Well, I am sure, when I move and speak in your London, the people will know me for a stranger. [33] That is not enough for me. Here I am noble; I am a Count; the common people know me, and I am the master. But a stranger in a strange land, he is no one. ‘Ha, ha! A stranger!’ You came to me not alone as [34] agent of my friend Peter Hawkins, to tell me all about my new estate in London. You will, I hope, rest here with me a little; and, please, tell me when I make errors, even the smallest, in my speaking.”

Of course I said that I would, and asked if I could use his library. He answered, “Yes, certainly,” and added.

“Tell me of London and of the house which you have prepared for me.”

With an apology, I went into my room to get the papers from my bag. When I returned the Count put away the books and papers from the table and we went into plans and figures of all sorts. He was interested in everything, and asked me a thousand questions about the place and its surroundings.

We discussed the purchase of the estate at Purfleet. [35] When I had told him the facts and got his signature to the necessary papers, he had written a letter to Mr. Hawkins. Then he said, “I am glad that it is old and big house. I am of an old family, and to live in a new house means to kill me. I love the shade and the shadow, and I want to be alone with my thoughts.”

He asked me to put all my papers together and left. I began to look at some of the books around me. One was an atlas of England. I found certain places marked with little rings, [36] one was near London on the east side, where his new estate was situated; the other two were Exeter [37] and Whitby [38] on the Yorkshire coast. [39]

In an hour the Count returned. “Aha!” he said. “Still at your books? Good! But you must not work always. Come; your supper is ready.”

He took my arm, and we went into the next room, where I found an excellent supper ready on the table. The Count again excused himself, as he had dined already. But he sat as on the previous night, and chatted while I ate.

After supper I smoked, as on the last evening, and the Count stayed with me, chatting and asking different questions, hour after hour. All at once [40] we heard the crow of a cock; Count Dracula jumped to his feet and said, “Why, there is the morning again! You must make your conversation regarding my dear new country of England less interesting, so that I may not forget how time flies,” and, with a courtly bow, he quickly left me.

I went into my own room and drew the curtains; my window opened into the courtyard, all I could see was the warm grey sky. So I pulled the curtains again.

8 May. – I have only the Count to speak with, and he – I fear I am myself the only living soul here.

I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and got up. I had hung my shaving glass by the window, and was just beginning to shave. And I made a cut. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count’s voice saying to me, “Good morning.” But I had not seen him, even though the reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me. I answered the Count’s salutation and turned to the glass again to see how I had been mistaken. This time there was no error, for the man was close to me, and I could see him over my shoulder. But there was no reflection of him in the mirror! The whole room behind me was displayed; but there was no sign of a man in it, except myself. At the instant I saw that the cut had bled a little, [41] and the blood was trickling over my chin. I laid down the razor, and turned to look for some plaster. When the Count saw my face, his eyes blazed with a demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat. I drew away, and his hand touched the little cross. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed very quickly.

“Take care!, [42] ” he said, “It is more dangerous than you think in this country.”

Then he seized my shaving glass and went on, “It is guilty, this wretched thing! Away with it!”

He opened the heavy window and flung out the glass, which has shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below. Then he left without a word.

When I went into the dining room, the breakfast was prepared; but I could not find the Count anywhere. So I had my breakfast alone. It is strange but it seems to me that the Count does not eat or drink. He must be a very peculiar man!