"Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own free will!" He did not try to step forward to meet me, but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of welcome had turned him to stone. However, as soon as I had stepped through the door, he moved impulsively forward. He held out his hand and grasped mine so powerfully that it was almost painful. It did not help that his hand seemed cold as ice, more like the hand of a dead man than a living one.

Again he said, "Welcome to my house! Enter freely. Go safely, and leave something of the happiness you bring!" His handshake was exactly as strong as the handshake of the driver had been. I had never had the chance to see the driver's face, and for a moment I thought that I was still talking to him. So to make sure, I said interrogatively, "Count Dracula?"

He bowed in a very polite way as he replied, "I am Dracula, and I you are welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house. Come in, the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest." As he was speaking, he hung the lamp on a hook on the wall. Then he stepped forward, and picked up my luggage. He had carried it in before I could stop him. I protested, but he insisted. "No, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my servants are not available. Let me see to your comfort myself."