Jonathan Harker's Journal
Still hurrying along.
The day has come, and Godalming is sleeping. I am on watch. The morning is bitterly
cold, the furnace heat is grateful, though we have heavy fur coats.
yet we have passed only a few open boats, but none of them had on board any box
or package of anything like the size of the one we seek.
The men were scared
every time we turned our electric lamp on them, and fell on their knees and prayed.