Richard Haraldsson,
The Cross and Crowl Inn
c/o General Post,
Drakesheath,Gloucestershire,
England.
September 2, 1899

Dr. William James,
Harvard University,
Faculty of Arts and Sciences,
University Hall, Cambridge,
Philosophy Department.

To my Partner-in-Crime,

Well William, I seem to have stepped into it here. My original intention, as you know, was to take some time in London for a vacation. Although I could never be called lazy, I do not possess your mad impulse to work every hour of every day. Nevertheless, I have been "requested" by Crookes to spend some time investigating purported "strange activities" occurring in the village of Drakesheath, not far from Gloucestershire in the Cotswolds.

While no one will directly admit it, the "strange activities" are obviously supposed to be vampiric in nature, but Crookes & Co. are resorting to the usual prevarications to describe them. You, of all people, will realise what a problem this poses for me. Although I take second place to no man in having an open mind about the possibilities of the psychical, when it comes to mythological creatures such as vampires and werewolves, I must confess that I have enormous difficulty taking the subject seriously.

Still, it is an adventure, and to be brutally honest, I had begun to tire of the purely social nature of my visit: drinks with Sedgwick at the SPR, meals with Crookes at the Athenium, and the general round of engagements that make up London society (although meeting Lord Tennyson at one of the SPR meetings was a true privilege). Still, it feels very good to be "back in the saddle again," as you Yanks would say. The one thing I do miss, however, is the relationship I was building with Doyle: a relationship that is of such interest, I feel it requires a new paragraph all to itself. Perhaps even two.

Doyle is indeed one of the most contradictory personalities I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. His intellect, although not as well-schooled or disciplined as, for instance, Crookes, is unquestionably of a superior nature to most men. You and I have both read his amusing and engaging "Holmes" stories and are in agreement that while, by nature, they are very common in their overall appeal, there is an essential complexity to their logic that is most admirable. This rationality is most definitely one of Doyle's strongest character traits.

On the other side, however, is his almost child-like willingness to believe almost anything having to do with the "other worlds." You know, of course, how, by using methods identical to those of his fictional hero, he succeeded in proving the innocence of a local man accused of murder –- and such is what we would expect from the creator of Sherlock Holmes. What we don't expect is how likely he would be to attempt the same result by means of extremely questionable occult methods. One of his acquaintances has called him "a man with the heart of a child" and I couldn't put it better myself.

But as much as I will miss my conversations with Doyle, I must confess that this trip is not without its entertaining aspects.

To begin with, there is a young lady.

Indeed, the impenetrable walls of Richard Haraldsson are in danger of being breached. When Crookes sent me to this rather gloomy village, from which I am writing you this correspondence, it was partly in response to the investigations of another member of the society, Professor Abraham Van Hasding, who has been on the trail of some mysterious "blood disease" for some time, and whose researches have led him to turn his gaze, and his presence, to Drakesheath. As a result, I have accompanied the good professor and his very charming daughter, Carmilla, on the journey here. It is by means of his progeny that the invading forces are mounting their siege, although I have no doubt she is herself quite unaware of it.

Much of my infatuation with this girl, while being excusable simply upon her visual appeal alone, really came about during our stop-over at the village of Little Rollright where, by request of Crookes, we were to conduct a few experiments involving the stone circle there. Up to this point I had found her attractive, appealing, and uncommonly intelligent and educated, but it was during my research that I came to appreciate her inordinate good sense and composure.

I won't go into the details of my experiments, the results of which I am sending in a formal report to Crookes, but allow me to simply say that they were less than stellar in quality. As a word of advice, should the occasion ever arise for you in the future, I must strongly recommend that when using a gausmeter to investigate psychical activity, you pay particular attention to the presence of water puddles in the vicinity of the battery.

I must say, I was most impressed with Carmilla's presence of mind, without which I would have undoubtedly experienced a most severe and abrupt loss of hair.

You will, perhaps, have noted a certain similarity in her father's name to that of a recent fictional personage. I will confirm that this similarity goes beyond the name and strikes right to the character and the work of the man. Although I cannot confirm it at the moment, I strongly suspect Professor Van Hasding is to Stoker what Dr. Bell has been to Doyle, and from both sources we have gained literary personalities that may well last beyond our own generation.

I will close now, but before I do I must mention one other point. There is a woman on the outer edges of this village whom I believe would be of some interest to you: not concerning your psychical research, but rather your burgeoning interest in the various religious experiences found within the human condition. She is viewed by many here as a "witch," and while I, as yet, know of no other-worldly powers she may have, I did have the opportunity to speak with several people about her, and it would seem that her belief system is most unusual. If I learn more, I will send you the details.

Keep well, my friend, and do give my regards to Mrs. Piper. I am still not entirely convinced that we have truly found our "white crow," but she is unquestionably worth our time and, aside from her value as a subject, a most charming woman.

Yours,
Richard.