Then he took out his watch, a great, old-fashioned German silver thing as big as a turnip and looked at it, with his eyebrows gathered together and a little impatient shrug of his shoulders. For a while I hesitated. Noté /5. I stopped, for there was a sudden stillness. as of many voices calling in unison. There, crouching against the massive bronze door, I gained a certain amount of protection from the beating of the hailstones, for now they only drove against me as they ricochetted from the ground and the side of the marble. "There was blood on the broken marble," another said after a pause, "the lightning never brought that there. With a despairing gesture, Johann turned his horses towards Munich. "Dog! "But Herr Delbruck," I enquired, "how and why was it that the soldiers searched for me? For answer he seemed to throw himself off the box, so quickly did he reach the ground. The carriage door was open. The Englishman walks for a time until he finds himself standing in a graveyard, more specifically at a tomb with an iron stake in the top. He made all sorts of excuses and frequently crossed himself as he spoke. The wolf rose from my breast and made for the cemetery. Johann could not hold them in; they bolted down the road, running away madly. Look at his throat! Retrouvez Dracula's Guest: And other Short Stories et des millions de livres en stock sur Amazon.fr. Taking me by both hands he solicitously led me in.The officer saluted me and was turning to withdraw, when I recognized his purpose and insisted that he should come to my rooms. It was first published in 1914 in Stoker's third collection of short stories Dracula's Guest And Other Weird Stories, George Routledge & Sons, Ltd., London. The ground shook as though thousands of horses thundered across it; and this time the storm bore on its icy wings, not snow, but great hailstones which drove with such violence that they might have come from the thongs of Balearic slingers--hailstones that beat down leaf and branch and made the shelter of the cypresses of no more avail than though their stems were standing corn. For a time I remembered nothing, but slowly my senses returned. The wolf still continued to yelp in a strange way, and a red glare began to move round the grove of cypresses, as though following the sound. Dracula’s Guest by Bram Stoker February 26, 2010 by Every Writer When we started for our drive the sun was shining brightly on Munich, and the air was full of the joyousness of early summer. I felt a warm rasping at my throat, then came a consciousness of the awful truth which chilled me to the heart and sent the blood surging up through my brain. The horses were now more restive than ever, and Johann was trying to hold them in, while excitedly imploring me not to do anything so foolish. There was not the slightest reason,that I could see, for his objection; and I daresay I tramped for a couple of hours without thinking of time or distance and certainly without seeing a person or a house. A young man becomes involved with the mysterious, mirthless Lord Ruthven. At the same time I had a strange, dominating feeling that I was not alone. "But how did you know I was lost?" Learn vocabulary, terms, and more with flashcards, games, and other study tools. Lose not a moment if you suspect harm to him. I must have fallen asleep; for the next thing I remembered was finding myself standing up, supported by a soldier on each side of me. no! On the top of the tomb, seemingly driven through the solid marble - for the structure was composed of a few vast blocks of stone - was a great iron spike or stake. After giving the direction, "Home!" This period of semilethargy seemed to remain a long time, and as it faded away I must have slept or swooned. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett, Uncle Tom's Cabin - Harriet Beecher Stowe. The Judge's House" is considered by many to be Bram Stoker's greatest short story and one of Britain's finest ghost stories. The officer was telling the men to say nothing of what they had seen, except that they found an English stranger, guarded by a large dog. Then came a sort of loathing, like the first stage of seasickness, and a wild desire to be free of something--I knew not what.A vast stillness enveloped me, as though all the world were asleep or dead--only broken by the low panting as of some animal close to me. It seemed to throw himself off the box, so quickly did he reach the I. Made for the yelping of the Web and contributors 2018 are graves enough there in which it lie. And pointed to the 1897 novel Frances Hodgson Burnett, Uncle Tom Cabin. 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