He parried them with his great bowie knife, and at first I thought that he to had come trough in safety. But as he sprang beside Jonathan, who had by now jumped from the cart, I could see that with his left hand he was clutching at his side, and blood was spurting through his finger he did not delay, however, and through and efforts of both men the lid of the box began to yield. The nails drew with a screeching sound, and the top of the box was thrown back. By this time the Gypsies, seeing themselves covered by the rifles of Lord Godalming, Dr. Seward, and van Helsing, had given in and made no further resistance. The sun was almost down on the mountain tops. I saw the Count lying within the box upon his earth.
He was deathly pale, and his red eyes glared with the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well. As I looked, his eyes saw the sinking sun, and the look of hate in them turned to triumph. But, in the instant, came the sweep and flash of Jonathan’s great knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through throat. At the same moment, Arthur’s bowie knife plunged into his heart.