Chris Jennings came to see me at Collinwood. I still find part of myself cringing from the sight of this twin of the man who defiled me in such a way that I can never forget the touch of his cold lips on my neck -- or the seductive sound of his voice when he summoned me. Looking at Chris is like looking at Tom. I have to exercise all control not to cower from him. 

Chris was in a very odd state, and at first tried to act rather nonchalant, saying he was having trouble sleeping, and he wanted me to give him some sleeping pills that would knock him out for 24 hours. When I asked why he wanted to sleep that much, he claimed to have a very bad case of insomnia that was interfering with his work. 

Not that I disapprove of sedatives in their place, but I told Mr. Jennings if he stayed awake all night, he would sleep the next night. The body has a way of taking care of itself in that department. Curiously, he became a bit agitated and insisted that he needed to sleep tonight! And when I pointed out that he looked rested in spite of his insomnia, he became more agitated and said he was desperate to get some sleeping pills. 

That set off my little alarm. I am familiar with the behavior patterns of drug addicts, and Chris Jennings does not fit the profile, but he could have something self-destructive in mind. I will not be party to supplying a vehicle for suicide. However he had a very guileless manner that eventually convinced me he had no such plan in mind, and in the end I agreed to give him a sedative that I began keeping in my bag shortly after my arrival at Collinwood. 

Just as I started to go for my bag, Mrs. Stoddard came in from outside where she had been looking for Madame Findley, who had been missing all morning. As if on cue, Madame Findley appeared at the top of the foyer stairs, and stood very still without saying anything, until Mrs. Stoddard tried to question her. Then without a sound, the woman crumpled like a marionette whose strings had been cut, and she tumbled down the stairs. I examined her and found that her neck was broken. Her eyes stared wide open in a look of horror that was unnerving even to me who has seen more corpses over the recent years than I care to remember. 

I was powerless to revive Madame Findley. Rigor mortis had already begun. It was as if she had been dead for some time before her fall. As a physician, I know that is not possible, yet in this house -- no, I must not allow my imagination to run wild. Blair and Angelique are gone, there can be no more evil here -- at least I pray there is not.

Poor Vickie, I find my heart going out to her and myself identifying with her frustration. She only wants Jeff, and in my conversations with her, she insists that Jeff will return to her. She is so preoccupied with thoughts of him, that she hardly notices the longing looks from Barnabas -- but I do. 

I know strange things occur here, but none of us were prepared for Vickie's departure from Collinwood. Just as she had predicted, Jeff returned to her, and somehow took Vickie back in time with him. Barnabas and Mrs. Stoddard saw them disappear before their eyes. It must be true, though I don't know how anyone could travel through time. How could I have believed things could ever be normal at Collinwood where the impossible is commonplace. Mrs. Stoddard was so severely shocked by what she saw that she has relapsed and once again has an alarming preoccupation with death. She thinks we'll bury her alive. 

Barnabas doesn't want to accept the fact that Vickie chose to be with Jeff so much she would sacrifice her life in the past. He blames Jeff for interfering with her life. I tried to reason with him, explain that Vickie made her own choice, but it was no use. I see that same obsessive pattern he displayed over Josette taking hold of him over Vickie. 

~*~

I don't understand what has happened. In spite of a sedative that should have kept her asleep until morning, Mrs. Stoddard got up and walked out of Collinwood in what sounded like a trance. With that dangerous animal still running loose in the woods, Barnabas went after her while ordering me to stay behind. Sometimes it pushes my patience to the edge when he acts like the liege lord! 

But stay behind I did, and as I was about to telephone Chris Jennings, HE showed up in an extremely agitated mood wanting those sleeping pills I'd promised him. He was very anxious that I give them to him before dark. I feel something more serious than insomnia is not right with him that he is not telling me. I hesitated and almost changed my mind about giving them to him, but with all that is going on at Collinwood, at least someone should be allowed a good night's sleep, and I handed him the bottle. However I only gave him three pills, three might put a horse to sleep, but they aren't enough to harm him.

How could I have imagined that life at Collinwood would ever be anything but strange. Mrs. Stoddard offered Vickie's position as governess to Maggie Evans and she asked her to start immediately, even asking her to move into Collinwood tonight. (Elizabeth Stoddard is the last person I would have thought to be so spontaneous.) So there Maggie was with only the clothes on her back, and not even a toothbrush, saying she would.

Joe Haskell volunteered to go back to town and pick up a few things for her at her home, but while he was at the Evans cottage, Joe was attacked by the animal that has been terrorizing Collinsport. He was not seriously injured, but he has suffered such an emotional trauma that his thinking is highly irrational. He didn't want me to call the Sheriff about the incident, and it took both Barnabas and myself to talk him into staying overnight at Collinwood.

~*~

If it's not one thing it's another. Chris Jennings showed up at Collinwood this evening upset because the sleeping pills I gave him didn't work even though he took all three. What sort of tolerance does this man have! Taking three of those at once should have rendered him comatose. But before I could give him anything stronger, he ran out of the house saying it was almost dark.

I have sadly misjudged the extent of Joe Haskell's emotional state. While I was tending to Mrs. Stoddard, Joe sneaked into the house and kidnapped Amy. He took her from her room and carried her off to the woods. Amy was able to get away from him, and when she returned to the house, she ran to me for protection with Joe close behind telling me to let go of her in a threatening tone. I recognized the look in Joe's eyes, I've seen it many times in the more psychotic patients at Wyndcliffe.

What could have happened to cause Joe to suddenly want to take Amy? I told the frightened child to go up to Maggie's room to get her away from Joe, and I physically had to block Joe from following her up the steps. I tried to reason with Joe, calm him, but he insisted I was the one who didn't know -- didn't know about the animal, and he suddenly agonized in horror over something only he knew about. His paranoia turned to hysterical laughing until the only way I could get through to his tormented mind and make him listen to me was to slap him sharply across the face. It worked -- at least he stopped that unnerving laughter, but just then a loud scream came from upstairs and I had to leave Joe alone for the moment, though I told him to stay until I returned.

I recognized the scream as Carolyn's and ran upstairs to find her sobbing over Mrs. Stoddard, who was lying on the floor. I found no pulse, no heartbeat, yet there was no apparent cause for her death. The cause is a mystery, yet Mrs. Stoddard is dead just as she predicted. 

Many things are happening so quickly that have no apparent relationship. I feel I must do my best to keep a mind that is grounded in reality. In Roger's absence, Barnabas has decided to remove David and Amy from all that is happening at Collinwood by enrolling them in a school in Boston.

Sheriff Patterson called me to the Collinsport Jail. He picked up Joe Haskell who had left Collinwood and apparently wandered into town where he had become hysterical and created a public disturbance. When I arrived, Joe was locked up in a cell and rambling incoherently about trying to protect Amy from seeing something. He insists that everyone is in danger, but won't say from what source. Whatever it is, is so horrible to him, that he is trying to block it from his conscious mind.

If only he had kept on talking, I believe Joe would have revealed it to me, but his cousin Chris Jennings arrived at the cell and Joe became violent and attacked Chris. I don't think he recognized Chris at all in his delusional state. I was forced to inject him with a strong sedative to put him to sleep, but it wasn't enough to stop the horrible dreams that terrified him. He tossed and turned and jerked on the cot and moaned as if something from the pits of Hell were attacking him in his dream. 

I returned from the jail on the eve of their trip to Boston to hear that Maggie found a mysterious note inside the music box that Barnabas had given to Vickie months ago. Maggie said the box opened on its own and revealed a hand written note inside that pleaded for help. It said, "I am alone -- help me, help me." Barnabas is convinced that Vickie is actually trying to contact him from the past, and he cancelled the trip to Boston. He refuses to give her up. He wants to believe the note was sent by Vickie, but he doesn't have an ounce of proof. I pointed out that the note could be a practical joke, and I even got Barnabas to admit that the scrawl didn't even look like Vickie's hand writing. I reminded him that his responsibility was to the children, a responsibility he couldn't ignore for such a flimsy excuse. Thank goodness Barnabas regained his senses and agreed to continue with the Boston trip. 

Exhaustion from the nonstop emergencies of the past two days caught up with me, and I climbed the stairs thinking how decadently luxurious a few hours of sleep would feel. On the way to my room, I stopped to speak to David and Amy who were playing in David's room, and I reminded them that Barnabas wanted to leave for Boston by two o'clock. They promised that they'd be ready, and I gratefully continued on to my room where I now hand myself over to the lure of blessed sleep.

After my years as an intern and resident, a few hours rest refresh me as well as a full nights sleep. One must take these little gifts when they offer themselves at Collinwood. After I'd freshened up and changed clothes, I came back down stairs, and Mrs. Johnson told me that the children were packed and ready to leave for Boston. 

The poor woman actually appeared to be greatly relieved. Perhaps their absence will do her a world of good, but I think it's Mrs. Johnson who needs time away. She has been under too much stress, I'm afraid her compulsive nature is unable to bear the strain of two active children, and the loss of Mrs. Stoddard all at once. Her hallucinations of seeing a strange, evil man in Chris' cottage bear out my observation of her behavior. After some some furtive glances over her shoulder and some hand-wringing, she left me alone in the drawing room, where I gratefully found a spot of bright color in all this darkness, a bowl of intensely red flowers that almost coaxed a smile from me. That is until Barnabas entered the room in a state of obvious anxiety with a photograph that David had taken of him and Carolyn earlier. 

On the photograph was the image of a woman in the background hanging with a gallows noose around her neck. Barnabas is sure that it is Vickie, and she is in trouble and needs his help. He has allowed this unexplained image to change his plans and cancelled the trip to Boston.

I can't imagine what help he thinks he can give to someone who is supposed to have gone back into the past 175 years. Surely if Vickie wanted to contact Barnabas, there would be an easier way, but Barnabas thinks she has gone back to be with Peter only to relive the horrible experience of being tried as a witch and being hanged. He insists he can change history by finding the secret to time and going back into the past -- as if people play out their lives in other times simultaneously with our own. Surely he can't change what has happened! This obsession he has frightens me, and I begged him not to go through with it, but he believes Vickie will hang tonight, and he is determined to stop it. He is going to Professor Stokes for help in the same way that Stokes helped Jeff Clark go back through time. I accompanied Barnabas to Stokes' house. thinking if he succeeded in time travel, I wanted to be with him, since I couldn't discourage him. Stokes was of no help in Barnabas' plan. He said Barnabas must be summoned back by someone who exists in the past. Vickie is obviously unable to do so, then who? Barnabas thinks the spirit of Peter Bradford would, if only to save Vickie from the gallows. But Stokes holds no hope for such a venture, thank God. 

The thought of Barnabas disappearing into what may or may not be the past is enough to make me lose control and stutter in panic. The only times in my life I have ever become practically inarticulate and scatterbrained were those involving Barnabas. I try to keep a level head and maintain a semblance of dignity at all times, but he has a way of bringing out a part of me that forgets the cool detachment I learned in medical school. 

We returned to Collinwood only to have David and Amy run breathlessly to us with the news that a new, open grave appeared and then as suddenly filled in at Eagle Hill Cemetery -- and it appeared alongside the grave marked 'Peter Bradford'. It is impossible that it could be Vickie's grave, but we went to the cemetery anyway. In spite of the fog rolling in, we found Peter Bradford's grave, but there was no freshly dug earth beside it -- nothing. We were about to return to Collinwood, but Barnabas had a feeling that he must look one last time, and when we did, a grave stone appeared where none existed before, a stone marked with the name of Victoria Winters -- hanged as a witch in 1796!

~*~

Barnabas explained to me about the tragic night that Vickie was hanged, the terrible grief that was visited on his family when his mother took poison after learning what he had become. His father's agony at having to be the one to destroy Barnabas, his only son and heir. And finally Barnabas' own murder of the man responsible for Naomi Collins' death.

When that night was over, Joshua Collins was unable to shoot Barnabas with the silver bullets he had commissioned for that reason, and instead he instructed his servant Ben Stokes to place the chains around the coffin in the mausoleum where Barnabas stayed imprisoned for almost 200 years until Willie broke in and released him.

I don't understand how Barnabas can save Vickie, but he believes if he can force Lt. Forbes to recant his damning testimony at Vickie's trial, it can change history. I warned him that if he changes one thing in the past, it can start a whole chain reaction of changes that could lead to his own destruction, and he could still end up as he was -- a vampire. In my heart I had hoped to talk him out of going, but he said he was willing to take any risk necessary, even sacrifice his own life to save Vickie. As fond as I am of Vickie, I care for him more. I can't bear the thought of what might happen to him if he does get back to his own time. 

Nothing I said changed his mind about trying to return to 1796, not even that he might not get back to this time. I wonder if he would rather stay there. The thought of never seeing him again brings on another panic attack that I must firmly repress. He told me to be back in the same spot at Vickie and Peter's grave site in 24 hours, and then he began to summon the spirit of Peter Bradford to help him transcend the barriers of time, to open the way for him -- and then he slowly faded and disappeared before my eyes. 

My heart was in my throat, all I could think of was that I could be losing him forever. I might never see his beloved face again, never again hear the only voice that has ever made me want to respond as a woman, never again feel the warmth of his hand brushing mine, the strength of him in his nearness. He is gone.