Bram Stoker's HANNIBAL

Chapter 34: Help, Heaven, Help

ACT II

Chapter 34: Help, Heaven, Help

Dear Miss Bloom,—

I write by desire of Mr. Will Graham, who is himself not strong enough to write, though progressing well, thanks to God and St. Joseph and Ste. Mary. He has been under our care for nearly two weeks, suffering from a violent brain fever. He wishes me to convey his well wishes, and to say that by this post I write for him to Mr. Leonard Brauner, Exeter, to say, with his dutiful respects, that he is sorry for his delay, and that all of his work is completed, the documents having been sent back by paid courier. He wishes me to say that he has not sufficient money with him, and that he would like to pay for his staying here, so that others who need shall not be wanting for help. He cannot travel alone, so it would be best if you sent someone to escort him home and see to his health.

– Yours, with sympathy and all blessings,

Sister Agatha

Hospital of St. Joseph and Ste. Mary, Budapest

August 12, 1893

P. S.—My patient being asleep, I open this to let you know something more. He has told me all about you, and that you are the closest thing he has to family. He has had some fearful shock—so says our doctor—and in his delirium his ravings have been dreadful; of wolves and poison and blood; of ghosts and demons; and I fear to say of what. Be careful with him always that there may be nothing to excite him of this kind for a long time to come; the traces of such an illness as his do not lightly die away. We should have written long ago, but we knew nothing of his friends, and there was on him nothing that anyone could understand.

He came in the train from Klausenburg, and the guard was told by the station-master there that he rushed into the station shouting for a ticket for home. Seeing from his violent demeanor that he was English, they gave him a ticket for the furthest station on the way thither that the train reached.

Be assured that he is well cared for. He has won all hearts by his sweetness and gentleness. He is truly getting on well, and I have no doubt will in a few weeks be all himself. But be careful of him for safety's sake. There are, I pray God and St. Joseph and Ste. Mary that you will return safely to your home in England.

Budapest, August 16th

My dearest Mother,—

I know you will be anxious to hear all that has happened since we parted at the railway station. Well, I got to Hull all right, and caught the boat to Hamburg, and then the train on here. I feel that I can hardly recall anything of the journey, except that I knew I was coming to find Will, and, that as I should have to do some nursing, I had better get all the sleep I could... I found our boy, oh, so thin and pale and weak-looking. All the resolution has gone out of his eyes, and that quiet dignity in his face has vanished. He is only a wreck of himself, and he does not remember anything that has happened to him for a long time past. At least, he wants me to believe so, and I shall never ask.

He has had some terrible shock, and I fear it might tax his poor brain if he were to try to recall it. Sister Agatha, who is a good creature and a born nurse, tells me that he raved of dreadful things whilst he was in a delirium. I wanted her to tell me what they were; but she would only cross herself, and say she would never tell; that the ravings of the sick were the secrets of God, and that if a nurse through her vocation should hear them, she should respect her trust.

She is a sweet, good soul, and the next day, when she saw I was troubled, she opened up the subject again, and after saying that she could never mention what my poor dear raved about, added: 'I can tell you this much, my dear: that it was not about anything which he has done wrong himself; and you, as his dear relation, have no cause to be concerned. He has not forgotten you or what he owes to you. His fear was of great and terrible things, which no mortal can treat.'