Seward’s lawn, Carfax Abbey stood against the darkening London sky like a huge stone ruin. “They must have used one giant pile of stones for this place,” I murmured to Frankie. She snorted. “Now the stones want to be a pile again.” It was true. The place was totally falling down. The gates in front were of old wood and even older iron all eaten with rust. It took no more than a minute to push through them and enter the big overgrown yard. The house loomed ahead. There were only a few windows in it, all of them dark. Iron bars crisscrossed the glass—which should have told us something. “Lair of evil, number two,” Frankie mumbled as we climbed up the front steps. At the door, Van Helsing raised his hand. “My friends, we are going into terrible danger. Be watchful!” At the professor’s signal, Harker and Seward pressed on the door. The rusty hinges creaked. Slowly the old door opened. I had been prepared for some kind of smell, but the stench that came blowing out nearly knocked us over.
