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Stoker, Bram

"Draculas Guest"

" Then he looked at his watch again, and, straightway holding his reins firmly--for the horses were still pawing the ground restless- ly and shaking their heads--he climbed to his box as though the time had come for proceeding on our journey.


? ? ? ? I felt a little obstinate and did not at once get into the carriage.


? ? ? ? "Tell me," I said, "about this place where the road leads," and I pointed down.


? ? ? ? Again he crossed himself and mumbled a prayer before he an- swered, "It is unholy."


? ? ? ? "What is unholy?" I enquired.


? ? ? ? "The village."


? ? ? ? "Then there is a village?"


? ? ? ? "No, no. No one lives there hundreds of years."


? ? ? ? My curiosity was piqued, "But you said there was a village."


? ? ? ? "There was."


? ? ? ? "Where is it now?"


? ? ? ? Whereupon he burst out into a long story in German and Eng- lish, so mixed up that I could not quite understand exactly what he said. Roughly I gathered that long ago, hundreds of years, men had died there and been buried in their graves; but sounds were heard under the clay, and when the graves were opened,men and women were found rosy with life and their mouths red with blood.


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