[Transcriber's note: This book was originally published in "pennydreadful" form. This edition does not include the entire 109episodes, which were published in three volumes. Authorship hasalso been ascribed to James Malcolm Rymer. 

The Table of Contents was added by the transcriber. ]

[Illustration:

No. 1. ) Nos. 2, 3 and 4 are Presented, Gratis, with this No. |Price 1d. 

VARNEY THE VAMPIRE

OR THE

FEAST OF BLOOD

A ROMANCE OF EXCITING INTEREST

BY THE AUTHOR OF

"GRACE RIVERS, OR, THE MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER. "

LONDON E. LLOYD, SALISBURY SQUARE, AND ALL BOOKSELLERS]

VARNEY, THE VAMPYRE:

OR, THE FEAST OF BLOOD. 

A Romance. 

"Art thou a spirit of health or goblin damned?"

LONDON:

PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY E. LLOYD, 12, SALISBURY-SQUARE, FLEET-STREET. 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. --MIDNIGHT. --THE HAIL-STORM. --THE DREADFUL VISITOR. --THEVAMPYRE. 

CHAPTER II. --THE ALARM. --THE PISTOL SHOT. --THE PURSUIT AND ITSCONSEQUENCES. 

CHAPTER III. --THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE BODY. --FLORA'S RECOVERY ANDMADNESS. --THE OFFER OF ASSISTANCE FROM SIR FRANCIS VARNEY. 

CHAPTER IV. --THE MORNING. --THE CONSULTATION. --THE FEARFUL SUGGESTION. 

CHAPTER V. --THE NIGHT WATCH. --THE PROPOSAL. --THE MOONLIGHT. --THEFEARFUL ADVENTURE. 

CHAPTER VI. --A GLANCE AT THE BANNERWORTH FAMILY. --THE PROBABLECONSEQUENCES OF THE MYSTERIOUS APPARITION'S APPEARANCE. 

CHAPTER VII. --THE VISIT TO THE VAULT OF THE BANNERWORTHS, AND ITSUNPLEASANT RESULT. --THE MYSTERY. 

CHAPTER VIII. --THE COFFIN. --THE ABSENCE OF THE DEAD. --THE MYSTERIOUSCIRCUMSTANCE, AND THE CONSTERNATION OF GEORGE. 

CHAPTER IX. --THE OCCURRENCES OF THE NIGHT AT THE HALL. --THE SECONDAPPEARANCE OF THE VAMPYRE, AND THE PISTOL-SHOT. 

CHAPTER X. --THE RETURN FROM THE VAULT. --THE ALARM, AND THE SEARCHAROUND THE HALL. 

CHAPTER XI. --THE COMMUNICATIONS TO THE LOVER. --THE HEART'S DESPAIR. 

CHAPTER XII. --CHARLES HOLLAND'S SAD FEELINGS. --THE PORTRAIT. --THEOCCURRENCE OF THE NIGHT AT THE HALL. 

CHAPTER XIII. --THE OFFER FOR THE HALL. --THE VISIT TO SIR FRANCISVARNEY. --THE STRANGE RESEMBLANCE. --A DREADFUL SUGGESTION. 

CHAPTER XIV. --HENRY'S AGREEMENT WITH SIR FRANCIS VARNEY. --THE SUDDENARRIVAL AT THE HALL. --FLORA'S ALARM. 

CHAPTER XV. --THE OLD ADMIRAL AND HIS SERVANT. --THE COMMUNICATION FROMTHE LANDLORD OF THE NELSON'S ARMS. 

CHAPTER XVI. --THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS IN THE GARDEN. --AN AFFECTINGSCENE. --THE SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF SIR FRANCIS VARNEY. 

CHAPTER XVII. --THE EXPLANATION. --THE ARRIVAL OF THE ADMIRAL AT THEHOUSE. --A SCENE OF CONFUSION, AND SOME OF ITS RESULTS. 

CHAPTER XVIII. --THE ADMIRAL'S ADVICE. --THE CHALLENGE TO THEVAMPYRE. --THE NEW SERVANT AT THE HALL. 

CHAPTER XIX. --FLORA IN HER CHAMBER. --HER FEARS. --THE MANUSCRIPT. --ANADVENTURE. 

CHAPTER XX. --THE DREADFUL MISTAKE. --THE TERRIFIC INTERVIEW IN THECHAMBER. --THE ATTACK OF THE VAMPYRE. 

CHAPTER XXI. --THE CONFERENCE BETWEEN THE UNCLE AND NEPHEW, AND THEALARM. 

CHAPTER XXII. --THE CONSULTATION. --THE DETERMINATION TO LEAVE THE HALL. 

CHAPTER XXIII. --THE ADMIRAL'S ADVICE TO CHARLES HOLLAND. --THE CHALLENGETO THE VAMPYRE. 

CHAPTER XXIV. --THE LETTER TO CHARLES. --THE QUARREL. --THE ADMIRAL'SNARRATIVE. --THE MIDNIGHT MEETING. 

CHAPTER XXV. --THE ADMIRAL'S OPINION. --THE REQUEST OF CHARLES. 

CHAPTER XXVI. --THE MEETING BY MOONLIGHT IN THE PARK. --THE TURRET WINDOWIN THE HALL. --THE LETTERS. 

CHAPTER XXVII. --THE NOBLE CONFIDENCE OF FLORA BANNERWORTH IN HERLOVER. --HER OPINION OF THE THREE LETTERS. --THE ADMIRAL'S ADMIRATION. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. --MR. MARCHDALE'S EXCULPATION OF HIMSELF. --THE SEARCHTHROUGH THE GARDENS. --THE SPOT OF THE DEADLY STRUGGLE. --THE MYSTERIOUSPAPER. 

CHAPTER XXIX. --A PEEP THROUGH AN IRON GRATING. --THE LONELY PRISONER INHIS DUNGEON. --THE MYSTERY. 

CHAPTER XXX. --THE VISIT OF FLORA TO THE VAMPYRE. --THE OFFER. --THESOLEMN ASSEVERATION. 

CHAPTER XXXI. --SIR FRANCIS VARNEY AND HIS MYSTERIOUS VISITOR. --THESTRANGE CONFERENCE. 

CHAPTER XXXII. --THE THOUSAND POUNDS. --THE STRANGER'S PRECAUTIONS. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. --THE STRANGE INTERVIEW. --THE CHASE THROUGH THE HALL. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. --THE THREAT. --ITS CONSEQUENCES. --THE RESCUE, AND SIRFRANCIS VARNEY'S DANGER. 

CHAPTER XXXV. --THE EXPLANATION. --MARCHDALE'S ADVICE. --THE PROJECTEDREMOVAL, AND THE ADMIRAL'S ANGER. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. --THE CONSULTATION. --THE DUEL AND ITS RESULTS. 

CHAPTER XXXVII. --SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S SEPARATE OPPONENTS. --THEINTERPOSITION OF FLORA. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. --MARCHDALE'S OFFER. --THE CONSULTATION AT BANNERWORTHHALL. --THE MORNING OF THE DUEL. 

CHAPTER XXXIX. --THE STORM AND THE FIGHT. -THE ADMIRAL'S REPUDIATION OFHIS PRINCIPAL. 

CHAPTER XL. --THE POPULAR RIOT. --SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S DANGER. --THESUGGESTION AND ITS RESULTS. 

CHAPTER XLIV. --VARNEY'S DANGER, AND HIS RESCUE. --THE PRISONER AGAIN, AND THE SUBTERRANEAN VAULT. 

CHAPTER XLV. --THE OPEN GRAVES. --THE DEAD BODIES. --A SCENE OF TERROR. 

CHAPTER XLVI. --THE PREPARATIONS FOR LEAVING BANNERWORTH HALL, AND THEMYSTERIOUS CONDUCT OF THE ADMIRAL AND MR. CHILLINGWORTH. 

CHAPTER XLVII. --THE REMOVAL FROM THE HALL. --THE NIGHT WATCH, AND THEALARM. 

CHAPTER XLVIII--THE STAKE AND THE DEAD BODY. 

CHAPTER XLIX--THE MOB'S ARRIVAL AT SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S. --THE ATTEMPTTO GAIN ADMISSION. 

CHAPTER L. --THE MOB'S ARRIVAL AT SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S. --THE ATTEMPT TOGAIN ADMISSION. 

CHAPTER LI. --THE ATTACK UPON THE VAMPYRE'S HOUSE. --THE STORY OF THEATTACK. --THE FORCING OF THE DOORS, AND THE STRUGGLE. 

CHAPTER LII. --THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN THE MOB AND SIR FRANCISVARNEY. --THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. --THE WINE CELLARS. 

CHAPTER LIII. --THE DESTRUCTION OF SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S HOUSE BYFIRE. --THE ARRIVAL OF THE MILITARY, AND A SECOND MOB. 

CHAPTER LIV. --THE BURNING OF VARNEY'S HOUSE. --A NIGHT SCENE. --POPULARSUPERSTITION. 

CHAPTER LV. --THE RETURN OF THE MOB AND MILITARY TO THE TOWN. --THEMADNESS OF THE MOB. --THE GROCER'S REVENGE. 

CHAPTER LVI. --THE DEPARTURE OF THE BANNERWORTHS FROM THE HALL. --THE NEWABODE. --JACK PRINGLE, PILOT. 

CHAPTER LVII. --THE LONELY WATCH, AND THE ADVENTURE IN THE DESERTEDHOUSE. 

CHAPTER LVIII. --THE ARRIVAL OF JACK PRINGLE. --MIDNIGHT AND THEVAMPYRE. --THE MYSTERIOUS HAT. 

CHAPTER LIX. --THE WARNING. --THE NEW PLAN OF OPERATION. --THE INSULTINGMESSAGE FROM VARNEY. 

CHAPTER LX. --THE INTERRUPTED BREAKFAST AT SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S. 

CHAPTER LXI. --THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER. --THE PARTICULARS OF THE SUICIDEAT BANNERWORTH HALL. 

CHAPTER LXII. --THE MYSTERIOUS MEETING IN THE RUIN AGAIN. --THE VAMPYRE'SATTACK UPON THE CONSTABLE. 

CHAPTER LXIII. --THE GUESTS AT THE INN, AND THE STORY OF THE DEAD UNCLE. 

CHAPTER LXIV. --THE VAMPIRE IN THE MOONLIGHT. --THE FALSE FRIEND. 

CHAPTER LXV. --VARNEY'S VISIT TO THE DUNGEON OF THE LONELY PRISONER INTHE RUINS. 

CHAPTER LXVI. --FLORA BANNERWORTH'S APPARENT INCONSISTENCY. --THEADMIRAL'S CIRCUMSTANCES AND ADVICE. --MR. CHILLINGWORTH'S MYSTERIOUSABSENCE. 

CHAPTER LXVII. --THE ADMIRAL'S STORY OF THE BEAUTIFUL BELINDA. 

CHAPTER LXVIII. --MARCHDALE'S ATTEMPTED VILLANY, AND THE RESULT. 

CHAPTER LXIX. --FLORA BANNERWORTH AND HER MOTHER. --THE EPISODE OFCHIVALRY. 

CHAPTER LXX. --THE FUNERAL OF THE STRANGER OF THE INN. --THE POPULARCOMMOTION, AND MRS. CHILLINGWORTH'S APPEAL TO THE MOB. --THE NEWRIOT. --THE HALL IN DANGER. 

CHAPTER LXXI. --THE STRANGE MEETING AT THE HALL BETWEEN MR. CHILLINGWORTH AND THE MYSTERIOUS FRIEND OF VARNEY. 

CHAPTER LXXII. --THE STRANGE STORY. --THE ARRIVAL OF THE MOB AT THE HALL, AND THEIR DISPERSION. 

CHAPTER LXXIII. --THE VISIT OF THE VAMPIRE. --THE GENERAL MEETING. 

CHAPTER LXXIV. --THE MEETING OF CHARLES AND FLORA. 

CHAPTER LXXV. --MUTUAL EXPLANATIONS, AND THE VISIT TO THE RUINS. 

CHAPTER LXXVI. --THE SECOND NIGHT-WATCH OF MR. CHILLINGWORTH AT THEHALL. 

CHAPTER LXXVII. --VARNEY IN THE GARDEN. --THE COMMUNICATION OF DR. CHILLINGWORTH TO THE ADMIRAL AND HENRY. 

CHAPTER LXXVIII. --THE ALTERCATION BETWEEN VARNEY AND THE EXECUTIONER INTHE HALL. --THE MUTUAL AGREEMENT. 

CHAPTER LXXIX. --THE VAMPYRE'S DANGER. --THE LAST REFUGE. --THE RUSE OFHENRY BANNERWORTH. 

CHAPTER LXXX. --THE DISCOVERY OF THE BODY OF MARCHDALE IN THE RUINS BYTHE MOB. --THE BURNING OF THE CORPSE. --THE MURDER OF THE HANGMAN. 

CHAPTER LXXXI. --THE VAMPYRE'S FLIGHT. --HIS DANGER, AND THE LAST PLACEOF REFUGE. 

CHAPTER LXXXII. --CHARLES HOLLAND'S PURSUIT OF THE VAMPYRE. --THEDANGEROUS INTERVIEW. 

CHAPTER LXXXIII. --THE MYSTERIOUS ARRIVAL AT THE INN. --THE HUNGARIANNOBLEMAN. --THE LETTER TO VARNEY. 

CHAPTER LXXXIV. --THE EXCITED POPULACE. --VARNEY HUNTED. --THE PLACE OFREFUGE. 

CHAPTER LXXXV. --THE HUNGARIAN NOBLEMAN GETS INTO DANGER. --HE IS FIREDAT, AND SHOWS SOME OF HIS QUALITY. 

CHAPTER LXXXVI. --THE DISCOVERY OF THE POCKET BOOK OF MARMADUKEBANNERWORTH. --ITS MYSTERIOUS CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER LXXXVII. --THE HUNT FOR VARNEY. --THE HOUSE-TOPS. --THE MIRACULOUSESCAPE. --THE LAST PLACE OF REFUGE. --THE COTTAGE. 

CHAPTER LXXXVIII. --THE RECEPTION OF THE VAMPYRE BY FLORA. --VARNEYSUBDUED. 

CHAPTER LXXXIX. --TELLS WHAT BECAME OF THE SECOND VAMPYRE WHO SOUGHTVARNEY. 

CHAPTER XC. --DR. CHILLINGWORTH AT THE HALL. --THE ENCOUNTER OFMYSTERY. --THE CONFLICT. --THE RESCUE, AND THE PICTURE. 

CHAPTER XCI. --THE GRAND CONSULTATION BROKEN UP BY MRS. CHILLINGWORTH, AND THE DISAPPEARANCE OF VARNEY. 

CHAPTER XCII. --THE MISADVENTURE OF THE DOCTOR WITH THE PICTURE. 

CHAPTER XCIII. --THE ALARM AT ANDERBURY. --THE SUSPICIONS OF THEBANNERWORTH FAMILY, AND THE MYSTERIOUS COMMUNICATION. 

CHAPTER XCIV. --THE VISITOR, AND THE DEATH IN THE SUBTERRANEAN PASSAGE. 

CHAPTER XCV. --THE MARRIAGE IN THE BANNERWORTH FAMILY ARRANGED. 

CHAPTER XCVI. --THE BARON TAKES ANDERBURY HOUSE, AND DECIDES UPON GIVINGA GRAND ENTERTAINMENT. 

PREFACE

The unprecedented success of the romance of "Varney the Vampyre, " leavesthe Author but little to say further, than that he accepts that successand its results as gratefully as it is possible for any one to dopopular favours. 

A belief in the existence of Vampyres first took its rise in Norway andSweden, from whence it rapidly spread to more southern regions, taking afirm hold of the imaginations of the more credulous portion of mankind. 

The following romance is collected from seemingly the most authenticsources, and the Author must leave the question of credibility entirelyto his readers, not even thinking that he his peculiarly called upon toexpress his own opinion upon the subject. 

Nothing has been omitted in the life of the unhappy Varney, which couldtend to throw a light upon his most extraordinary career, and the factof his death just as it is here related, made a great noise at the timethrough Europe and is to be found in the public prints for the year1713. 

With these few observations, the Author and Publisher, are well contentto leave the work in the hands of a public, which has stamped it with anapprobation far exceeding their most sanguine expectations, and which iscalculated to act as the strongest possible incentive to the productionof other works, which in a like, or perchance a still further degree maybe deserving of public patronage and support. 

To the whole of the Metropolitan Press for their laudatory notices, theAuthor is peculiarly obliged. 

_London Sep. 1847_

VARNEY, THE VAMPYRE;

OR

THE FEAST OF BLOOD

A Romance

CHAPTER I. 

 ----"How graves give up their dead. And how the night air hideous grows With shrieks!"

MIDNIGHT. --THE HAIL-STORM. --THE DREADFUL VISITOR. --THE VAMPYRE. 

[Illustration]

The solemn tones of an old cathedral clock have announced midnight--theair is thick and heavy--a strange, death like stillness pervades allnature. Like the ominous calm which precedes some more than usuallyterrific outbreak of the elements, they seem to have paused even intheir ordinary fluctuations, to gather a terrific strength for the greateffort. A faint peal of thunder now comes from far off. Like a signalgun for the battle of the winds to begin, it appeared to awaken themfrom their lethargy, and one awful, warring hurricane swept over a wholecity, producing more devastation in the four or five minutes it lasted, than would a half century of ordinary phenomena. 

It was as if some giant had blown upon some toy town, and scattered manyof the buildings before the hot blast of his terrific breath; for assuddenly as that blast of wind had come did it cease, and all was asstill and calm as before. 

Sleepers awakened, and thought that what they had heard must be theconfused chimera of a dream. They trembled and turned to sleep again. 

All is still--still as the very grave. Not a sound breaks the magic ofrepose. What is that--a strange, pattering noise, as of a million offairy feet? It is hail--yes, a hail-storm has burst over the city. Leaves are dashed from the trees, mingled with small boughs; windowsthat lie most opposed to the direct fury of the pelting particles of iceare broken, and the rapt repose that before was so remarkable in itsintensity, is exchanged for a noise which, in its accumulation, drownsevery cry of surprise or consternation which here and there arose frompersons who found their houses invaded by the storm. 

Now and then, too, there would come a sudden gust of wind that in itsstrength, as it blew laterally, would, for a moment, hold millions ofthe hailstones suspended in mid air, but it was only to dash them withredoubled force in some new direction, where more mischief was to bedone. 

Oh, how the storm raged! Hail--rain--wind. It was, in very truth, anawful night. 

 * * * * *

There is an antique chamber in an ancient house. Curious and quaintcarvings adorn the walls, and the large chimney-piece is a curiosity ofitself. The ceiling is low, and a large bay window, from roof to floor, looks to the west. The window is latticed, and filled with curiouslypainted glass and rich stained pieces, which send in a strange, yetbeautiful light, when sun or moon shines into the apartment. There isbut one portrait in that room, although the walls seem panelled for theexpress purpose of containing a series of pictures. That portrait is ofa young man, with a pale face, a stately brow, and a strange expressionabout the eyes, which no one cared to look on twice. 

There is a stately bed in that chamber, of carved walnut-wood is itmade, rich in design and elaborate in execution; one of those works ofart which owe their existence to the Elizabethan era. It is hung withheavy silken and damask furnishing; nodding feathers are at itscorners--covered with dust are they, and they lend a funereal aspect tothe room. The floor is of polished oak. 

God! how the hail dashes on the old bay window! Like an occasionaldischarge of mimic musketry, it comes clashing, beating, and crackingupon the small panes; but they resist it--their small size saves them;the wind, the hail, the rain, expend their fury in vain. 

The bed in that old chamber is occupied. A creature formed in allfashions of loveliness lies in a half sleep upon that ancient couch--agirl young and beautiful as a spring morning. Her long hair has escapedfrom its confinement and streams over the blackened coverings of thebedstead; she has been restless in her sleep, for the clothing of thebed is in much confusion. One arm is over her head, the other hangsnearly off the side of the bed near to which she lies. A neck and bosomthat would have formed a study for the rarest sculptor that everProvidence gave genius to, were half disclosed. She moaned slightly inher sleep, and once or twice the lips moved as if in prayer--at leastone might judge so, for the name of Him who suffered for all came oncefaintly from them. 

She has endured much fatigue, and the storm does not awaken her; but itcan disturb the slumbers it does not possess the power to destroyentirely. The turmoil of the elements wakes the senses, although itcannot entirely break the repose they have lapsed into. 

Oh, what a world of witchery was in that mouth, slightly parted, andexhibiting within the pearly teeth that glistened even in the faintlight that came from that bay window. How sweetly the long silkeneyelashes lay upon the cheek. Now she moves, and one shoulder isentirely visible--whiter, fairer than the spotless clothing of the bedon which she lies, is the smooth skin of that fair creature, justbudding into womanhood, and in that transition state which presents tous all the charms of the girl--almost of the child, with the morematured beauty and gentleness of advancing years. 

Was that lightning? Yes--an awful, vivid, terrifying flash--then aroaring peal of thunder, as if a thousand mountains were rolling oneover the other in the blue vault of Heaven! Who sleeps now in thatancient city? Not one living soul. The dread trumpet of eternity couldnot more effectually have awakened any one. 

The hail continues. The wind continues. The uproar of the elements seemsat its height. Now she awakens--that beautiful girl on the antique bed;she opens those eyes of celestial blue, and a faint cry of alarm burstsfrom her lips. At least it is a cry which, amid the noise and turmoilwithout, sounds but faint and weak. She sits upon the bed and pressesher hands upon her eyes. Heavens! what a wild torrent of wind, and rain, and hail! The thunder likewise seems intent upon awakening sufficientechoes to last until the next flash of forked lightning should againproduce the wild concussion of the air. She murmurs a prayer--a prayerfor those she loves best; the names of those dear to her gentle heartcome from her lips; she weeps and prays; she thinks then of whatdevastation the storm must surely produce, and to the great God ofHeaven she prays for all living things. Another flash--a wild, blue, bewildering flash of lightning streams across that bay window, for aninstant bringing out every colour in it with terrible distinctness. Ashriek bursts from the lips of the young girl, and then, with eyes fixedupon that window, which, in another moment, is all darkness, and withsuch an expression of terror upon her face as it had never before known, she trembled, and the perspiration of intense fear stood upon her brow. 

"What--what was it?" she gasped; "real, or a delusion? Oh, God, what wasit? A figure tall and gaunt, endeavouring from the outside to unclaspthe window. I saw it. That flash of lightning revealed it to me. Itstood the whole length of the window. "

There was a lull of the wind. The hail was not falling sothickly--moreover, it now fell, what there was of it, straight, and yeta strange clattering sound came upon the glass of that long window. Itcould not be a delusion--she is awake, and she hears it. What canproduce it? Another flash of lightning--another shriek--there could benow no delusion. 

A tall figure is standing on the ledge immediately outside the longwindow. It is its finger-nails upon the glass that produces the sound solike the hail, now that the hail has ceased. Intense fear paralysed thelimbs of that beautiful girl. That one shriek is all she can utter--withhands clasped, a face of marble, a heart beating so wildly in her bosom, that each moment it seems as if it would break its confines, eyesdistended and fixed upon the window, she waits, froze with horror. Thepattering and clattering of the nails continue. No word is spoken, andnow she fancies she can trace the darker form of that figure against thewindow, and she can see the long arms moving to and fro, feeling forsome mode of entrance. What strange light is that which now graduallycreeps up into the air? red and terrible--brighter and brighter itgrows. The lightning has set fire to a mill, and the reflection of therapidly consuming building falls upon that long window. There can be nomistake. The figure is there, still feeling for an entrance, andclattering against the glass with its long nails, that appear as if thegrowth of many years had been untouched. She tries to scream again but achoking sensation comes over her, and she cannot. It is toodreadful--she tries to move--each limb seems weighed down by tons oflead--she can but in a hoarse faint whisper cry, --

"Help--help--help--help!"

And that one word she repeats like a person in a dream. The red glare ofthe fire continues. It throws up the tall gaunt figure in hideous reliefagainst the long window. It shows, too, upon the one portrait that is inthe chamber, and that portrait appears to fix its eyes upon theattempting intruder, while the flickering light from the fire makes itlook fearfully life-like. A small pane of glass is broken, and the formfrom without introduces a long gaunt hand, which seems utterly destituteof flesh. The fastening is removed, and one-half of the window, whichopens like folding doors, is swung wide open upon its hinges. 

And yet now she could not scream--she could not move. "Help!--help!--help!" was all she could say. But, oh, that look ofterror that sat upon her face, it was dreadful--a look to haunt thememory for a lifetime--a look to obtrude itself upon the happiestmoments, and turn them to bitterness. 

The figure turns half round, and the light falls upon the face. It isperfectly white--perfectly bloodless. The eyes look like polished tin;the lips are drawn back, and the principal feature next to thosedreadful eyes is the teeth--the fearful looking teeth--projecting likethose of some wild animal, hideously, glaringly white, and fang-like. Itapproaches the bed with a strange, gliding movement. It clashes togetherthe long nails that literally appear to hang from the finger ends. Nosound comes from its lips. Is she going mad--that young and beautifulgirl exposed to so much terror? she has drawn up all her limbs; shecannot even now say help. The power of articulation is gone, but thepower of movement has returned to her; she can draw herself slowly alongto the other side of the bed from that towards which the hideousappearance is coming. 

But her eyes are fascinated. The glance of a serpent could not haveproduced a greater effect upon her than did the fixed gaze of thoseawful, metallic-looking eyes that were bent on her face. Crouching downso that the gigantic height was lost, and the horrible, protruding, white face was the most prominent object, came on the figure. What wasit?--what did it want there?--what made it look so hideous--so unlike aninhabitant of the earth, and yet to be on it?

Now she has got to the verge of the bed, and the figure pauses. Itseemed as if when it paused she lost the power to proceed. The clothingof the bed was now clutched in her hands with unconscious power. Shedrew her breath short and thick. Her bosom heaves, and her limbstremble, yet she cannot withdraw her eyes from that marble-looking face. He holds her with his glittering eye. 

The storm has ceased--all is still. The winds are hushed; the churchclock proclaims the hour of one: a hissing sound comes from the throatof the hideous being, and he raises his long, gaunt arms--the lips move. He advances. The girl places one small foot from the bed on to thefloor. She is unconsciously dragging the clothing with her. The door ofthe room is in that direction--can she reach it? Has she power towalk?--can she withdraw her eyes from the face of the intruder, and sobreak the hideous charm? God of Heaven! is it real, or some dream solike reality as to nearly overturn the judgment for ever?

The figure has paused again, and half on the bed and half out of it thatyoung girl lies trembling. Her long hair streams across the entire widthof the bed. As she has slowly moved along she has left it streamingacross the pillows. The pause lasted about a minute--oh, what an age ofagony. That minute was, indeed, enough for madness to do its full workin. 

With a sudden rush that could not be foreseen--with a strange howlingcry that was enough to awaken terror in every breast, the figure seizedthe long tresses of her hair, and twining them round his bony hands heheld her to the bed. Then she screamed--Heaven granted her then power toscream. Shriek followed shriek in rapid succession. The bed-clothes fellin a heap by the side of the bed--she was dragged by her long silkenhair completely on to it again. Her beautifully rounded limbs quiveredwith the agony of her soul. The glassy, horrible eyes of the figure ranover that angelic form with a hideous satisfaction--horribleprofanation. He drags her head to the bed's edge. He forces it back bythe long hair still entwined in his grasp. With a plunge he seizes herneck in his fang-like teeth--a gush of blood, and a hideous suckingnoise follows. _The girl has swooned, and the vampyre is at his hideousrepast!_

CHAPTER II. 

THE ALARM. --THE PISTOL SHOT. --THE PURSUIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 

[Illustration]

Lights flashed about the building, and various room doors opened; voicescalled one to the other. There was an universal stir and commotion amongthe inhabitants. 

"Did you hear a scream, Harry?" asked a young man, half-dressed, as hewalked into the chamber of another about his own age. 

"I did--where was it?"

"God knows. I dressed myself directly. "

"All is still now. "

"Yes; but unless I was dreaming there was a scream. "

"We could not both dream there was. Where did you think it came from?"

"It burst so suddenly upon my ears that I cannot say. "

There was a tap now at the door of the room where these young men were, and a female voice said, --

"For God's sake, get up!"

"We are up, " said both the young men, appearing. 

"Did you hear anything?"

"Yes, a scream. "

"Oh, search the house--search the house; where did it come from--can youtell?"

"Indeed we cannot, mother. "

Another person now joined the party. He was a man of middle age, and, ashe came up to them, he said, --

"Good God! what is the matter?"

Scarcely had the words passed his lips, than such a rapid succession ofshrieks came upon their ears, that they felt absolutely stunned by them. The elderly lady, whom one of the young men had called mother, fainted, and would have fallen to the floor of the corridor in which they allstood, had she not been promptly supported by the last comer, whohimself staggered, as those piercing cries came upon the night air. He, however, was the first to recover, for the young men seemed paralysed. 

"Henry, " he cried, "for God's sake support your mother. Can you doubtthat these cries come from Flora's room?"

The young man mechanically supported his mother, and then the man whohad just spoken darted back to his own bed-room, from whence he returnedin a moment with a pair of pistols, and shouting, --

"Follow me, who can!" he bounded across the corridor in the direction ofthe antique apartment, from whence the cries proceeded, but which werenow hushed. 

That house was built for strength, and the doors were all of oak, and ofconsiderable thickness. Unhappily, they had fastenings within, so thatwhen the man reached the chamber of her who so much required help, hewas helpless, for the door was fast. 

"Flora! Flora!" he cried; "Flora, speak!"

All was still. 

"Good God!" he added; "we must force the door. "

"I hear a strange noise within, " said the young man, who trembledviolently. 

"And so do I. What does it sound like?"

"I scarcely know; but it nearest resembles some animal eating, orsucking some liquid. "

"What on earth can it be? Have you no weapon that will force the door? Ishall go mad if I am kept here. "

"I have, " said the young man. "Wait here a moment. "

He ran down the staircase, and presently returned with a small, butpowerful, iron crow-bar. 

"This will do, " he said. 

"It will, it will. --Give it to me. "

"Has she not spoken?"

"Not a word. My mind misgives me that something very dreadful must havehappened to her. "

"And that odd noise!"

"Still goes on. Somehow, it curdles the very blood in my veins to hearit. "

The man took the crow-bar, and with some difficulty succeeded inintroducing it between the door and the side of the wall--still itrequired great strength to move it, but it did move, with a harsh, crackling sound. 

"Push it!" cried he who was using the bar, "push the door at the sametime. "

The younger man did so. For a few moments the massive door resisted. Then, suddenly, something gave way with a loud snap--it was a part ofthe lock, --and the door at once swung wide open. 

How true it is that we measure time by the events which happen within agiven space of it, rather than by its actual duration. 

To those who were engaged in forcing open the door of the antiquechamber, where slept the young girl whom they named Flora, each momentwas swelled into an hour of agony; but, in reality, from the firstmoment of the alarm to that when the loud cracking noise heralded thedestruction of the fastenings of the door, there had elapsed but veryfew minutes indeed. 

"It opens--it opens, " cried the young man. 

"Another moment, " said the stranger, as he still plied thecrowbar--"another moment, and we shall have free ingress to the chamber. Be patient. "

This stranger's name was Marchdale; and even as he spoke, he succeededin throwing the massive door wide open, and clearing the passage to thechamber. 

To rush in with a light in his hand was the work of a moment to theyoung man named Henry; but the very rapid progress he made into theapartment prevented him from observing accurately what it contained, forthe wind that came in from the open window caught the flame of thecandle, and although it did not actually extinguish it, it blew it somuch on one side, that it was comparatively useless as a light. 

"Flora--Flora!" he cried. 

Then with a sudden bound something dashed from off the bed. Theconcussion against him was so sudden and so utterly unexpected, as wellas so tremendously violent, that he was thrown down, and, in his fall, the light was fairly extinguished. 

All was darkness, save a dull, reddish kind of light that now and then, from the nearly consumed mill in the immediate vicinity, came into theroom. But by that light, dim, uncertain, and flickering as it was, someone was seen to make for the window. 

Henry, although nearly stunned by his fall, saw a figure, gigantic inheight, which nearly reached from the floor to the ceiling. The otheryoung man, George, saw it, and Mr. Marchdale likewise saw it, as did thelady who had spoken to the two young men in the corridor when first thescreams of the young girl awakened alarm in the breasts of all theinhabitants of that house. 

The figure was about to pass out at the window which led to a kind ofbalcony, from whence there was an easy descent to a garden. 

Before it passed out they each and all caught a glance of the side-face, and they saw that the lower part of it and the lips were dabbled inblood. They saw, too, one of those fearful-looking, shining, metalliceyes which presented so terrible an appearance of unearthly ferocity. 

No wonder that for a moment a panic seized them all, which paralysed anyexertions they might otherwise have made to detain that hideous form. 

But Mr. Marchdale was a man of mature years; he had seen much of life, both in this and in foreign lands; and he, although astonished to theextent of being frightened, was much more likely to recover sooner thanhis younger companions, which, indeed, he did, and acted promptlyenough. 

"Don't rise, Henry, " he cried. "Lie still. "

Almost at the moment he uttered these words, he fired at the figure, which then occupied the window, as if it were a gigantic figure set in aframe. 

The report was tremendous in that chamber, for the pistol was no toyweapon, but one made for actual service, and of sufficient length andbore of barrel to carry destruction along with the bullets that camefrom it. 

"If that has missed its aim, " said Mr. Marchdale, "I'll never pull atrigger again. "

As he spoke he dashed forward, and made a clutch at the figure he feltconvinced he had shot. 

The tall form turned upon him, and when he got a full view of the face, which he did at that moment, from the opportune circumstance of the ladyreturning at the instant with a light she had been to her own chamber toprocure, even he, Marchdale, with all his courage, and that was great, and all his nervous energy, recoiled a step or two, and uttered theexclamation of, "Great God!"

That face was one never to be forgotten. It was hideously flushed withcolour--the colour of fresh blood; the eyes had a savage and remarkablelustre; whereas, before, they had looked like polished tin--they nowwore a ten times brighter aspect, and flashes of light seemed to dartfrom them. The mouth was open, as if, from the natural formation of thecountenance, the lips receded much from the large canine looking teeth. 

A strange howling noise came from the throat of this monstrous figure, and it seemed upon the point of rushing upon Mr. Marchdale. Suddenly, then, as if some impulse had seized upon it, it uttered a wild andterrible shrieking kind of laugh; and then turning, dashed through thewindow, and in one instant disappeared from before the eyes of those whofelt nearly annihilated by its fearful presence. 

"God help us!" ejaculated Henry. 

Mr. Marchdale drew a long breath, and then, giving a stamp on the floor, as if to recover himself from the state of agitation into which even hewas thrown, he cried, --

"Be it what or who it may, I'll follow it"

"No--no--do not, " cried the lady. 

"I must, I will. Let who will come with me--I follow that dreadfulform. "

As he spoke, he took the road it took, and dashed through the windowinto the balcony. 

"And we, too, George, " exclaimed Henry; "we will follow Mr. Marchdale. This dreadful affair concerns us more nearly than it does him. "

The lady who was the mother of these young men, and of the beautifulgirl who had been so awfully visited, screamed aloud, and implored ofthem to stay. But the voice of Mr. Marchdale was heard exclaimingaloud, --

"I see it--I see it; it makes for the wall. "

They hesitated no longer, but at once rushed into the balcony, and fromthence dropped into the garden. 

The mother approached the bed-side of the insensible, perhaps themurdered girl; she saw her, to all appearance, weltering in blood, and, overcome by her emotions, she fainted on the floor of the room. 

When the two young men reached the garden, they found it much lighterthan might have been fairly expected; for not only was the morningrapidly approaching, but the mill was still burning, and those mingledlights made almost every object plainly visible, except when deepshadows were thrown from some gigantic trees that had stood forcenturies in that sweetly wooded spot. They heard the voice of Mr. Marchdale, as he cried, --

"There--there--towards the wall. There--there--God! how it boundsalong. "

The young men hastily dashed through a thicket in the direction fromwhence his voice sounded, and then they found him looking wild andterrified, and with something in his hand which looked like a portion ofclothing. 

"Which way, which way?" they both cried in a breath. 

He leant heavily on the arm of George, as he pointed along a vista oftrees, and said in a low voice, --

"God help us all. It is not human. Look there--look there--do you notsee it?"

They looked in the direction he indicated. At the end of this vista wasthe wall of the garden. At that point it was full twelve feet in height, and as they looked, they saw the hideous, monstrous form they had tracedfrom the chamber of their sister, making frantic efforts to clear theobstacle. 

Then they saw it bound from the ground to the top of the wall, which itvery nearly reached, and then each time it fell back again into thegarden with such a dull, heavy sound, that the earth seemed to shakeagain with the concussion. They trembled--well indeed they might, andfor some minutes they watched the figure making its fruitless efforts toleave the place. 

"What--what is it?" whispered Henry, in hoarse accents. "God, what canit possibly be?"

"I know not, " replied Mr. Marchdale. "I did seize it. It was cold andclammy like a corpse. It cannot be human. "

"Not human?"

"Look at it now. It will surely escape now. "

"No, no--we will not be terrified thus--there is Heaven above us. Comeon, and, for dear Flora's sake, let us make an effort yet to seize thisbold intruder. "

"Take this pistol, " said Marchdale. "It is the fellow of the one Ifired. Try its efficacy. "

"He will be gone, " exclaimed Henry, as at this moment, after manyrepeated attempts and fearful falls, the figure reached the top of thewall, and then hung by its long arms a moment or two, previous todragging itself completely up. 

The idea of the appearance, be it what it might, entirely escaping, seemed to nerve again Mr. Marchdale, and he, as well as the two youngmen, ran forward towards the wall. They got so close to the figurebefore it sprang down on the outer side of the wall, that to misskilling it with the bullet from the pistol was a matter of utterimpossibility, unless wilfully. 

Henry had the weapon, and he pointed it full at the tall form with asteady aim. He pulled the trigger--the explosion followed, and that thebullet did its office there could be no manner of doubt, for the figuregave a howling shriek, and fell headlong from the wall on the outside. 

"I have shot him, " cried Henry, "I have shot him. "

CHAPTER III. 

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE BODY. --FLORA'S RECOVERY AND MADNESS. --THE OFFEROF ASSISTANCE FROM SIR FRANCIS VARNEY. 

[Illustration]

"He is human!" cried Henry; "I have surely killed him. "

"It would seem so, " said Mr. Marchdale. "Let us now hurry round to theoutside of the wall, and see where he lies. "

This was at once agreed to, and the whole three of them made whatexpedition they could towards a gate which led into a paddock, acrosswhich they hurried, and soon found themselves clear of the garden wall, so that they could make way towards where they fully expected to findthe body of him who had worn so unearthly an aspect, but who it would bean excessive relief to find was human. 

So hurried was the progress they made, that it was scarcely possible toexchange many words as they went; a kind of breathless anxiety was uponthem, and in the speed they disregarded every obstacle, which would, atany other time, have probably prevented them from taking the direct roadthey sought. 

It was difficult on the outside of the wall to say exactly which was theprecise spot which it might be supposed the body had fallen on; but, byfollowing the wall in its entire length, surely they would come upon it. 

They did so; but, to their surprise, they got from its commencement toits further extremity without finding any dead body, or even anysymptoms of one having lain there. 

At some parts close to the wall there grew a kind of heath, and, consequently, the traces of blood would be lost among it, if it sohappened that at the precise spot at which the strange being had seemedto topple over, such vegetation had existed. This was to be ascertained;but now, after traversing the whole length of the wall twice, they cameto a halt, and looked wonderingly in each other's faces. 

"There is nothing here, " said Harry. 

"Nothing, " added his brother. 

"It could not have been a delusion, " at length said Mr. Marchdale, witha shudder. 

"A delusion?" exclaimed the brother! "That is not possible; we all sawit. "

"Then what terrible explanation can we give?"

"By heavens! I know not, " exclaimed Henry. "This adventure surpasses allbelief, and but for the great interest we have in it, I should regard itwith a world of curiosity. "

"It is too dreadful, " said George; "for God's sake, Henry, let us returnto ascertain if poor Flora is killed. "

"My senses, " said Henry, "were all so much absorbed in gazing at thathorrible form, that I never once looked towards her further than to seethat she was, to appearance, dead. God help her! poor--poor, beautifulFlora. This is, indeed, a sad, sad fate for you to come to. Flora--Flora--"

"Do not weep, Henry, " said George. "Rather let us now hasten home, wherewe may find that tears are premature. She may yet be living and restoredto us. "

"And, " said Mr. Marchdale, "she may be able to give us some account ofthis dreadful visitation. "

"True--true, " exclaimed Henry; "we will hasten home. "

They now turned their steps homeward, and as they went they much blamedthemselves for all leaving home together, and with terror pictured whatmight occur in their absence to those who were now totally unprotected. 

"It was a rash impulse of us all to come in pursuit of this dreadfulfigure, " remarked Mr. Marchdale; "but do not torment yourself, Henry. There may be no reason for your fears. "

At the pace they went, they very soon reached the ancient house, andwhen they came in sight of it, they saw lights flashing from thewindows, and the shadows of faces moving to and fro, indicating that thewhole household was up, and in a state of alarm. 

Henry, after some trouble, got the hall door opened by a terrifiedservant, who was trembling so much that she could scarcely hold thelight she had with her. 

"Speak at once, Martha, " said Henry. "Is Flora living?"

"Yes; but--"

"Enough--enough! Thank God she lives; where is she now?"

"In her own room, Master Henry. Oh, dear--oh, dear, what will become ofus all?"

Henry rushed up the staircase, followed by George and Mr. Marchdale, norpaused he once until he reached the room of his sister. 

"Mother, " he said, before he crossed the threshold, "are you here?"

"I am, my dear--I am. Come in, pray come in, and speak to poor Flora. "

"Come in, Mr. Marchdale, " said Henry--"come in; we make no stranger ofyou. "

They all then entered the room. 

Several lights had been now brought into that antique chamber, and, inaddition to the mother of the beautiful girl who had been so fearfullyvisited, there were two female domestics, who appeared to be in thegreatest possible fright, for they could render no assistance whateverto anybody. 

The tears were streaming down the mother's face, and the moment she sawMr. Marchdale, she clung to his arm, evidently unconscious of what shewas about, and exclaimed, --

"Oh, what is this that has happened--what is this? Tell me, Marchdale!Robert Marchdale, you whom I have known even from my childhood, you willnot deceive me. Tell me the meaning of all this?"

"I cannot, " he said, in a tone of much emotion. "As God is my judge, Iam as much puzzled and amazed at the scene that has taken place hereto-night as you can be. "

The mother wrung her hands and wept. 

"It was the storm that first awakened me, " added Marchdale; "and then Iheard a scream. "

The brothers tremblingly approached the bed. Flora was placed in asitting, half-reclining posture, propped up by pillows. She was quiteinsensible, and her face was fearfully pale; while that she breathed atall could be but very faintly seen. On some of her clothing, about theneck, were spots of blood, and she looked more like one who had sufferedsome long and grievous illness, than a young girl in the prime of lifeand in the most robust health, as she had been on the day previous tothe strange scene we have recorded. 

"Does she sleep?" said Henry, as a tear fell from his eyes upon herpallid cheek. 

"No, " replied Mr. Marchdale. "This is a swoon, from which we mustrecover her. "

Active measures were now adopted to restore the languid circulation, and, after persevering in them for some time, they had the satisfactionof seeing her open her eyes. 

Her first act upon consciousness returning, however, was to utter a loudshriek, and it was not until Henry implored her to look around her, andsee that she was surrounded by none but friendly faces, that she wouldventure again to open her eyes, and look timidly from one to the other. Then she shuddered, and burst into tears as she said, --

"Oh, Heaven, have mercy upon me--Heaven, have mercy upon me, and save mefrom that dreadful form. "

"There is no one here, Flora, " said Mr. Marchdale, "but those who loveyou, and who, in defence of you, if needs were would lay down theirlives. "

"Oh, God! Oh, God!"

"You have been terrified. But tell us distinctly what has happened? Youare quite safe now. "

[Illustration]

She trembled so violently that Mr. Marchdale recommended that somestimulant should be given to her, and she was persuaded, although notwithout considerable difficulty, to swallow a small portion of some winefrom a cup. There could be no doubt but that the stimulating effect ofthe wine was beneficial, for a slight accession of colour visited hercheeks, and she spoke in a firmer tone as she said, --

"Do not leave me. Oh, do not leave me, any of you. I shall die if leftalone now. Oh, save me--save me. That horrible form! That fearful face!"

"Tell us how it happened, dear Flora?" said Henry. 

"Or would you rather endeavour to get some sleep first?" suggested Mr. Marchdale. 

"No--no--no, " she said, "I do not think I shall ever sleep again. "

"Say not so; you will be more composed in a few hours, and then you cantell us what has occurred. "

"I will tell you now. I will tell you now. "

She placed her hands over her face for a moment, as if to collect herscattered, thoughts, and then she added, --

"I was awakened by the storm, and I saw that terrible apparition at thewindow. I think I screamed, but I could not fly. Oh, God! I could notfly. It came--it seized me by the hair. I know no more. I know no more. "

She passed her hand across her neck several times, and Mr. Marchdalesaid, in an anxious voice, --

"You seem, Flora, to have hurt your neck--there is a wound. "

"A wound!" said the mother, and she brought a light close to the bed, where all saw on the side of Flora's neck a small punctured wound; or, rather two, for there was one a little distance from the other. 

It was from these wounds the blood had come which was observable uponher night clothing. 

"How came these wounds?" said Henry. 

"I do not know, " she replied. "I feel very faint and weak, as if I hadalmost bled to death. "

"You cannot have done so, dear Flora, for there are not abovehalf-a-dozen spots of blood to be seen at all. "

Mr. Marchdale leaned against the carved head of the bed for support, andhe uttered a deep groan. All eyes were turned upon him, and Henry said, in a voice of the most anxious inquiry, --

"You have something to say, Mr. Marchdale, which will throw some lightupon this affair. "

"No, no, no, nothing!" cried Mr. Marchdale, rousing himself at once fromthe appearance of depression that had come over him. "I have nothing tosay, but that I think Flora had better get some sleep if she can. "

"No sleep-no sleep for me, " again screamed Flora. "Dare I be alone tosleep?"

"But you shall not be alone, dear Flora, " said Henry. "I will sit byyour bedside and watch you. "

She took his hand in both hers, and while the tears chased each otherdown her cheeks, she said, --

"Promise me, Henry, by all your hopes of Heaven, you will not leave me. "

"I promise!"

She gently laid herself down, with a deep sigh, and closed her eyes. 

"She is weak, and will sleep long, " said Mr. Marchdale. 

"You sigh, " said Henry. "Some fearful thoughts, I feel certain, oppressyour heart. "

"Hush-hush!" said Mr. Marchdale, as he pointed to Flora. "Hush! nothere--not here. "

"I understand, " said Henry. 

"Let her sleep. "

There was a silence of some few minutes duration. Flora had dropped intoa deep slumber. That silence was first broken by George, who said, --

"Mr. Marchdale, look at that portrait. "

He pointed to the portrait in the frame to which we have alluded, andthe moment Marchdale looked at it he sunk into a chair as heexclaimed, --

"Gracious Heaven, how like!"

"It is--it is, " said Henry. "Those eyes--"

"And see the contour of the countenance, and the strange shape of themouth. "

"Exact--exact. "

"That picture shall be moved from here. The sight of it is at oncesufficient to awaken all her former terrors in poor Flora's brain if sheshould chance to awaken and cast her eyes suddenly upon it. "

"And is it so like him who came here?" said the mother. 

"It is the very man himself, " said Mr. Marchdale. "I have not been inthis house long enough to ask any of you whose portrait that may be?"

"It is, " said Henry, "the portrait of Sir Runnagate Bannerworth, anancestor of ours, who first, by his vices, gave the great blow to thefamily prosperity. "

"Indeed. How long ago?"

"About ninety years. "

"Ninety years. 'Tis a long while--ninety years. "

"You muse upon it. "

"No, no. I do wish, and yet I dread--"

"What?"

"To say something to you all. But not here--not here. We will hold aconsultation on this matter to-morrow. Not now--not now. "

"The daylight is coming quickly on, " said Henry; "I shall keep my sacredpromise of not moving from this room until Flora awakens; but there canbe no occasion for the detention of any of you. One is sufficient here. Go all of you, and endeavour to procure what rest you can. "

"I will fetch you my powder-flask and bullets, " said Mr. Marchdale; "andyou can, if you please, reload the pistols. In about two hours more itwill be broad daylight. "

This arrangement was adopted. Henry did reload the pistols, and placedthem on a table by the side of the bed, ready for immediate action, andthen, as Flora was sleeping soundly, all left the room but himself. 

Mrs. Bannerworth was the last to do so. She would have remained, but forthe earnest solicitation of Henry, that she would endeavour to get somesleep to make up for her broken night's repose, and she was indeed sobroken down by her alarm on Flora's account, that she had not power toresist, but with tears flowing from her eyes, she sought her ownchamber. 

And now the calmness of the night resumed its sway in that evil-fatedmansion; and although no one really slept but Flora, all were still. Busy thought kept every one else wakeful. It was a mockery to lie downat all, and Henry, full of strange and painful feelings as he was, preferred his present position to the anxiety and apprehension onFlora's account which he knew he should feel if she were not within thesphere of his own observation, and she slept as soundly as some gentleinfant tired of its playmates and its sports. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE MORNING. --THE CONSULTATION. --THE FEARFUL SUGGESTION. 

[Illustration]

What wonderfully different impressions and feelings, with regard to thesame circumstances, come across the mind in the broad, clear, andbeautiful light of day to what haunt the imagination, and often renderthe judgment almost incapable of action, when the heavy shadow of nightis upon all things. 

There must be a downright physical reason for this effect--it is soremarkable and so universal. It seems that the sun's rays so completelyalter and modify the constitution of the atmosphere, that it produces, as we inhale it, a wonderfully different effect upon the nerves of thehuman subject. 

We can account for this phenomenon in no other way. Perhaps never in hislife had he, Henry Bannerworth, felt so strongly this transition offeeling as he now felt it, when the beautiful daylight gradually dawnedupon him, as he kept his lonely watch by the bedside of his slumberingsister. 

That watch had been a perfectly undisturbed one. Not the least sight orsound of any intrusion had reached his senses. All had been as still asthe very grave. 

And yet while the night lasted, and he was more indebted to the rays ofthe candle, which he had placed upon a shelf, for the power todistinguish objects than to the light of the morning, a thousand uneasyand strange sensations had found a home in his agitated bosom. 

He looked so many times at the portrait which was in the panel that atlength he felt an undefined sensation of terror creep over him wheneverhe took his eyes off it. 

He tried to keep himself from looking at it, but he found it vain, so headopted what, perhaps, was certainly the wisest, best plan, namely, tolook at it continually. 

He shifted his chair so that he could gaze upon it without any effort, and he placed the candle so that a faint light was thrown upon it, andthere he sat, a prey to many conflicting and uncomfortable feelings, until the daylight began to make the candle flame look dull and sickly. 

Solution for the events of the night he could find none. He racked hisimagination in vain to find some means, however vague, of endeavouringto account for what occurred, and still he was at fault. All was to himwrapped in the gloom of the most profound mystery. 

And how strangely, too, the eyes of that portrait appeared to look uponhim--as if instinct with life, and as if the head to which they belongedwas busy in endeavouring to find out the secret communings of his soul. It was wonderfully well executed that portrait; so life-like, that thevery features seemed to move as you gazed upon them. 

"It shall be removed, " said Henry. "I would remove it now, but that itseems absolutely painted on the panel, and I should awake Flora in anyattempt to do so. "

He arose and ascertained that such was the case, and that it wouldrequire a workman, with proper tools adapted to the job, to remove theportrait. 

"True, " he said, "I might now destroy it, but it is a pity to obscure awork of such rare art as this is; I should blame myself if I were. Itshall be removed to some other room of the house, however. "

Then, all of a sudden, it struck Henry how foolish it would be to removethe portrait from the wall of a room which, in all likelihood, afterthat night, would be uninhabited; for it was not probable that Florawould choose again to inhabit a chamber in which she had gone through somuch terror. 

"It can be left where it is, " he said, "and we can fasten up, if weplease, even the very door of this room, so that no one need troublethemselves any further about it. "

The morning was now coming fast, and just as Henry thought he wouldpartially draw a blind across the window, in order to shield from thedirect rays of the sun the eyes of Flora, she awoke. 

"Help--help!" she cried, and Henry was by her side in a moment. 

"You are safe, Flora--you are safe, " he said. 

"Where is it now?" she said. 

"What--what, dear Flora?"

"The dreadful apparition. Oh, what have I done to be made thusperpetually miserable?"

"Think no more of it, Flora. "

"I must think. My brain is on fire! A million of strange eyes seemgazing on me. "

"Great Heaven! she raves, " said Henry. 

"Hark--hark--hark! He comes on the wings of the storm. Oh, it is mosthorrible--horrible!"

Henry rang the bell, but not sufficiently loudly to create any alarm. The sound reached the waking ear of the mother, who in a few moments wasin the room. 

"She has awakened, " said Henry, "and has spoken, but she seems to me towander in her discourse. For God's sake, soothe her, and try to bringher mind round to its usual state. "

"I will, Henry--I will. "

"And I think, mother, if you were to get her out of this room, and intosome other chamber as far removed from this one as possible, it wouldtend to withdraw her mind from what has occurred. "

"Yes; it shall be done. Oh, Henry, what was it--what do you think itwas?"

"I am lost in a sea of wild conjecture. I can form no conclusion; whereis Mr. Marchdale?"

"I believe in his chamber. "

"Then I will go and consult with him. "

Henry proceeded at once to the chamber, which was, as he knew, occupiedby Mr. Marchdale; and as he crossed the corridor, he could not but pausea moment to glance from a window at the face of nature. 

As is often the case, the terrific storm of the preceding evening hadcleared the air, and rendered it deliciously invigorating and life-like. The weather had been dull, and there had been for some days a certainheaviness in the atmosphere, which was now entirely removed. 

The morning sun was shining with uncommon brilliancy, birds were singingin every tree and on every bush; so pleasant, so spirit-stirring, health-giving a morning, seldom had he seen. And the effect upon hisspirits was great, although not altogether what it might have been, hadall gone on as it usually was in the habit of doing at that house. Theordinary little casualties of evil fortune had certainly from time totime, in the shape of illness, and one thing or another, attacked thefamily of the Bannerworths in common with every other family, but heresuddenly had arisen a something at once terrible and inexplicable. 

He found Mr. Marchdale up and dressed, and apparently in deep andanxious thought. The moment he saw Henry, he said, --

"Flora is awake, I presume. "

"Yes, but her mind appears to be much disturbed. "

"From bodily weakness, I dare say. "

"But why should she be bodily weak? she was strong and well, ay, as wellas she could ever be in all her life. The glow of youth and health wason her cheeks. Is it possible that, in the course of one night, sheshould become bodily weak to such an extent?"

"Henry, " said Mr. Marchdale, sadly, "sit down. I am not, as you know, asuperstitious man. "

"You certainly are not. "

"And yet, I never in all my life was so absolutely staggered as I havebeen by the occurrences of to-night. "

"Say on. "

"There is a frightful, a hideous solution of them; one which everyconsideration will tend to add strength to, one which I tremble to namenow, although, yesterday, at this hour, I should have laughed it toscorn. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, it is so. Tell no one that which I am about to say to you. Let thedreadful suggestion remain with ourselves alone, Henry Bannerworth. "

"I--I am lost in wonder. "

"You promise me?"

"What--what?"

"That you will not repeat my opinion to any one. "

"I do. "

"On your honour. "

"On my honour, I promise. "

Mr. Marchdale rose, and proceeding to the door, he looked out to seethat there were no listeners near. Having ascertained then that theywere quite alone, he returned, and drawing a chair close to that onwhich Henry sat, he said, --

"Henry, have you never heard of a strange and dreadful superstitionwhich, in some countries, is extremely rife, by which it is supposedthat there are beings who never die. "

"Never die!"

"Never. In a word, Henry, have you never heard of--of--I dread topronounce the word. "

"Speak it. God of Heaven! let me hear it. "

"A _vampyre_!"

Henry sprung to his feet. His whole frame quivered with emotion; thedrops of perspiration stood upon his brow, as, in, a strange, hoarsevoice, he repeated the words, --

"A vampyre!"

"Even so; one who has to renew a dreadful existence by human blood--onewho lives on for ever, and must keep up such a fearful existence uponhuman gore--one who eats not and drinks not as other men--a vampyre. "

Henry dropped into his scat, and uttered a deep groan of the mostexquisite anguish. 

"I could echo that groan, " said Marchdale, "but that I am so thoroughlybewildered I know not what to think. "

"Good God--good God!"

"Do not too readily yield belief in so dreadful a supposition, I prayyou. "

"Yield belief!" exclaimed Henry, as he rose, and lifted up one of hishands above his head. "No; by Heaven, and the great God of all, whothere rules, I will not easily believe aught so awful and so monstrous. "

"I applaud your sentiment, Henry; not willingly would I deliver upmyself to so frightful a belief--it is too horrible. I merely have toldyou of that which you saw was on my mind. You have surely before heardof such things. "

"I have--I have. "

"I much marvel, then, that the supposition did not occur to you, Henry. "

"It did not--it did not, Marchdale. It--it was too dreadful, I suppose, to find a home in my heart. Oh! Flora, Flora, if this horrible ideashould once occur to you, reason cannot, I am quite sure, uphold youagainst it. "

"Let no one presume to insinuate it to her, Henry. I would not have itmentioned to her for worlds. "

"Nor I--nor I. Good God! I shudder at the very thought--the merepossibility; but there is no possibility, there can be none. I will notbelieve it. "

"Nor I. "

"No; by Heaven's justice, goodness, grace, and mercy, I will not believeit. "

"Tis well sworn, Henry; and now, discarding the supposition that Florahas been visited by a vampyre, let us seriously set about endeavouring, if we can, to account for what has happened in this house. "

"I--I cannot now. "

"Nay, let us examine the matter; if we can find any natural explanation, let us cling to it, Henry, as the sheet-anchor of our very souls. "

"Do you think. You are fertile in expedients. Do you think, Marchdale;and, for Heaven's sake, and for the sake of our own peace, find out someother way of accounting for what has happened, than the hideous one youhave suggested. "

"And yet my pistol bullets hurt him not; he has left the tokens of hispresence on the neck of Flora. "

"Peace, oh! peace. Do not, I pray you, accumulate reasons why I shouldreceive such a dismal, awful superstition. Oh, do not, Marchdale, as youlove me!"

"You know that my attachment to you, " said Marchdale, "is sincere; andyet, Heaven help us!"

His voice was broken by grief as he spoke, and he turned aside his headto hide the bursting tears that would, despite all his efforts, showthemselves in his eyes. 

"Marchdale, " added Henry, after a pause of some moments' duration, "Iwill sit up to-night with my sister. "

"Do--do!"

"Think you there is a chance it may come again?"

"I cannot--I dare not speculate upon the coming of so dreadful avisitor, Henry; but I will hold watch with you most willingly. "

"You will, Marchdale?"

"My hand upon it. Come what dangers may, I will share them with you, Henry. "

"A thousand thanks. Say nothing, then, to George of what we have beentalking about. He is of a highly susceptible nature, and the very ideaof such a thing would kill him. "

"I will; be mute. Remove your sister to some other chamber, let me begof you, Henry; the one she now inhabits will always be suggestive ofhorrible thoughts. "

"I will; and that dreadful-looking portrait, with its perfect likenessto him who came last night. "

"Perfect indeed. Do you intend to remove it?"

"I do not. I thought of doing so; but it is actually on the panel in thewall, and I would not willingly destroy it, and it may as well remainwhere it is in that chamber, which I can readily now believe will becomehenceforward a deserted one in this house. "

"It may well become such. "

"Who comes here? I hear a step. "

There was a tip at the door at this moment, and George made hisappearance in answer to the summons to come in. He looked pale and ill;his face betrayed how much he had mentally suffered during that night, and almost directly he got into the bed-chamber he said, --

I shall, I am sure, be censured by you both for what I am going to say;but I cannot help saying it, nevertheless, for to keep it to myselfwould destroy me. "

"Good God, George! what is it?" said Mr. Marchdale. 

"Speak it out!" said Henry. 

"I have been thinking of what has occurred here, and the result of thatthought has been one of the wildest suppositions that ever I thought Ishould have to entertain. Have you never heard of a vampyre?"

Henry sighed deeply, and Marchdale was silent. 

"I say a vampyre, " added George, with much excitement in his manner. "Itis a fearful, a horrible supposition; but our poor, dear Flora has beenvisited by a vampyre, and I shall go completely mad!"

He sat down, and covering his face with his hands, he wept bitterly andabundantly. 

"George, " said Henry, when he saw that the frantic grief had in somemeasure abated--"be calm, George, and endeavour to listen to me. "

"I hear, Henry. "

"Well, then, do not suppose that you are the only one in this house towhom so dreadful a superstition has occurred. "

"Not the only one?"

"No; it has occurred to Mr. Marchdale also. "

"Gracious Heaven!"

"He mentioned it to me; but we have both agreed to repudiate it withhorror. "

"To--repudiate--it?"

"Yes, George. "

"And yet--and yet--"

"Hush, hush! I know what you would say. You would tell us that ourrepudiation of it cannot affect the fact. Of that we are aware; but yetwill we disbelieve that which a belief in would be enough to drive usmad. "

"What do you intend to do?"

"To keep this supposition to ourselves, in the first place; to guard itmost zealously from the ears of Flora. "

"Do you think she has ever heard of vampyres?"

"I never heard her mention that in all her reading she had gathered evena hint of such a fearful superstition. If she has, we must be guided bycircumstances, and do the best we can. "

"Pray Heaven she may not!"

"Amen to that prayer, George, " said Henry. "Mr. Marchdale and I intendto keep watch over Flora to-night. "

"May not I join you?"

"Your health, dear George, will not permit you to engage in suchmatters. Do you seek your natural repose, and leave it to us to do thebest we can in this most fearful and terrible emergency. "

"As you please, brother, and as you please, Mr. Marchdale. I know I am afrail reed, and my belief is that this affair will kill me quite. Thetruth is, I am horrified--utterly and frightfully horrified. Like mypoor, dear sister, I do not believe I shall ever sleep again. "

"Do not fancy that, George, " said Marchdale. "You very much add to theuneasiness which must be your poor mother's portion, by allowing thiscircumstance to so much affect you. You well know her affection for youall, and let me therefore, as a very old friend of hers, entreat you towear as cheerful an aspect as you can in her presence. "

"For once in my life, " said George, sadly, "I will; to my dear mother, endeavour to play the hypocrite. "

"Do so, " said Henry. "The motive will sanction any such deceit as that, George, be assured. "

The day wore on, and Poor Flora remained in a very precarious situation. It was not until mid-day that Henry made up his mind he would call in amedical gentleman to her, and then he rode to the neighbouringmarket-town, where he knew an extremely intelligent practitionerresided. This gentleman Henry resolved upon, under a promise of secrecy, makings confidant of; but, long before he reached him, he found he mightwell dispense with the promise of secrecy. 

He had never thought, so engaged had he been with other matters, thatthe servants were cognizant of the whole affair, and that from them hehad no expectation of being able to keep the whole story in all itsdetails. Of course such an opportunity for tale-bearing and gossipingwas not likely to be lost; and while Henry was thinking over how he hadbetter act in the matter, the news that Flora Bannerworth had beenvisited in the night by a vampyre--for the servants named the visitationsuch at once--was spreading all over the county. 

As he rode along, Henry met a gentleman on horseback who belonged to thecounty, and who, reining in his steed, said to him, "Good morning, Mr. Bannerworth. "

"Good morning, " responded Henry, and he would have ridden on, but thegentleman added, --

"Excuse me for interrupting you, sir; but what is the strange story thatis in everybody's mouth about a vampyre?"

Henry nearly fell off his horse, he was so much astonished, and, wheeling the animal around, he said, --

"In everybody's mouth!"

"Yes; I have heard it from at least a dozen persons. "

"You surprise me. "

"It is untrue? Of course I am not so absurd as really to believe aboutthe vampyre; but is there no foundation at all for it? We generally findthat at the bottom of these common reports there is a something aroundwhich, as a nucleus, the whole has formed. "

"My sister is unwell. "

"Ah, and that's all. It really is too bad, now. "

"We had a visitor last night. "

"A thief, I suppose?"

"Yes, yes--I believe a thief. I do believe it was a thief, and she wasterrified. "

"Of course, and upon such a thing is grafted a story of a vampyre, andthe marks of his teeth being in her neck, and all the circumstantialparticulars. "

"Yes, yes. "

"Good morning, Mr. Bannerworth. "

Henry bade the gentleman good morning, and much vexed at the publicitywhich the affair had already obtained, he set spurs to his horse, determined that he would speak to no one else upon so uncomfortable atheme. Several attempts were made to stop him, but he only waved hishand and trotted on, nor did he pause in his speed till he reached thedoor of Mr. Chillingworth, the medical man whom he intended to consult. 

Henry knew that at such a time he would be at home, which was the case, and he was soon closeted with the man of drugs. Henry begged his patienthearing, which being accorded, he related to him at full length what hadhappened, not omitting, to the best of his remembrance, any oneparticular. When he had concluded his narration, the doctor shifted hisposition several times, and then said, --

"That's all?"

"Yes--and enough too. "

"More than enough, I should say, my young friend. You astonish me. "

"Can you form any supposition, sir, on the subject?"

"Not just now. What is your own idea?"

"I cannot be said to have one about it. It is too absurd to tell youthat my brother George is impressed with a belief a vampyre has visitedthe house. "

"I never in all my life heard a more circumstantial narrative in favourof so hideous a superstition. "

"Well, but you cannot believe--"

"Believe what?"

"That the dead can come to life again, and by such a process keep upvitality. "

"Do you take me for a fool?"

"Certainly not. "

"Then why do you ask me such questions?"

"But the glaring facts of the case. "

"I don't care if they were ten times more glaring, I won't believe it. Iwould rather believe you were all mad, the whole family of you--that atthe full of the moon you all were a little cracked. "

"And so would I. "

"You go home now, and I will call and see your sister in the course oftwo hours. Something may turn up yet, to throw some new light upon thisstrange subject. "

With this understanding Henry went home, and he took care to ride asfast as before, in order to avoid questions, so that he got back to hisold ancestral home without going through the disagreeable ordeal ofhaving to explain to any one what had disturbed the peace of it. 

When Henry reached his home, he found that the evening was rapidlycoming on, and before he could permit himself to think upon any othersubject, he inquired how his terrified sister had passed the hoursduring his absence. 

He found that but little improvement had taken place in her, and thatshe had occasionally slept, but to awaken and speak incoherently, as ifthe shock she had received had had some serious affect upon her nerves. He repaired at once to her room, and, finding that she was awake, heleaned over her, and spoke tenderly to her. 

"Flora, " he said, "dear Flora, you are better now?"

"Harry, is that you?"

"Yes, dear. "

"Oh, tell me what has happened?"

"Have you not a recollection, Flora?"

"Yes, yes, Henry; but what was it? They none of them will tell me whatit was, Henry. "

"Be calm, dear. No doubt some attempt to rob the house. "

"Think you so?"

"Yes; the bay window was peculiarly adapted for such a purpose; but nowthat you are removed here to this room, you will be able to rest inpeace. "

"I shall die of terror, Henry. Even now those eyes are glaring on me sohidiously. Oh, it is fearful--it is very fearful, Henry. Do you not pityme, and no one will promise to remain with me at night. "

"Indeed, Flora, you are mistaken, for I intend to sit by your bedsidearmed, and so preserve you from all harm. "

She clutched his hand eagerly, as she said, --

"You will, Henry. You will, and not think it too much trouble, dearHenry. "

"It can be no trouble, Flora. "

"Then I shall rest in peace, for I know that the dreadful vampyre cannotcome to me when you are by-"

"The what, Flora!"

"The vampyre, Henry. It was a vampyre. "

"Good God, who told you so?"

"No one. I have read of them in the book of travels in Norway, which Mr. Marchdale lent us all. "

"Alas, alas!" groaned Henry. "Discard, I pray you, such a thought fromyour mind. "

"Can we discard thoughts. What power have we but from that mind, whichis ourselves?"

"True, true. "

"Hark, what noise is that? I thought I heard a noise. Henry, when yougo, ring for some one first. Was there not a noise?"

"The accidental shutting of some door, dear. "

"Was it that?"

"It was. "

"Then I am relieved. Henry, I sometimes fancy I am in the tomb, and thatsome one is feasting on my flesh. They do say, too, that those who inlife have been bled by a vampyre, become themselves vampyres, and havethe same horrible taste for blood as those before them. Is it nothorrible?"

"You only vex yourself by such thoughts, Flora. Mr. Chillingworth iscoming to see you. "

"Can he minister to a mind diseased?"

"But yours is not, Flora. Your mind is healthful, and so, although hispower extends not so far, we will thank Heaven, dear Flora, that youneed it not. "

She sighed deeply, as she said, --

"Heaven help me! I know not, Henry. The dreadful being held on by myhair. I must have it all taken off. I tried to get away, but it draggedme back--a brutal thing it was. Oh, then at that moment, Henry, I feltas if something strange took place in my brain, and that I was goingmad! I saw those glazed eyes close to, mine--I felt a hot, pestiferousbreath upon my face--help--help!"

"Hush! my Flora, hush! Look at me. "

"I am calm again. It fixed its teeth in my throat. Did I faint away?"

"You did, dear; but let me pray you to refer all this to imagination; orat least the greater part of it. "

"But you saw it. "

"Yes--"

"All saw it. "

"We all saw some man--a housebreaker--It must have been somehousebreaker. What more easy, you know, dear Flora, than to assume somesuch disguise?"

"Was anything stolen?"

"Not that I know of; but there was an alarm, you know. "

Flora shook her head, as she said, in a low voice, --

"That which came here was more than mortal. Oh, Henry, if it had butkilled me, now I had been happy; but I cannot live--I hear it breathingnow. "

"Talk of something else, dear Flora, " said the much distressed Henry;"you will make yourself much worse, if you indulge yourself in thesestrange fancies. "

"Oh, that they were but fancies!"

"They are, believe me. "

"There is a strange confusion in my brain, and sleep comes over mesuddenly, when I least expect it. Henry, Henry, what I was, I shallnever, never be again. "

"Say not so. All this will pass away like a dream, and leave so faint atrace upon your memory, that the time will come when you will wonder itever made so deep an impression on your mind. "

"You utter these words, Henry, " she said, "but they do not come fromyour heart. Ah, no, no, no! Who comes?"

The door was opened by Mrs. Bannerworth, who said, --

"It is only me, my dear. Henry, here is Dr. Chillingworth in thedining-room. "

Henry turned to Flora, saying, --

"You will see him, dear Flora? You know Mr. Chillingworth well. "

"Yes, Henry, yes, I will see him, or whoever you please. "

"Shew Mr. Chillingworth up, " said Henry to the servant. 

In a few moments the medical man was in the room, and he at onceapproached the bedside to speak to Flora, upon whose pale countenance helooked with evident interest, while at the same time it seemed mingledwith a painful feeling--at least so his own face indicated. 

"Well, Miss Bannerworth, " he said, "what is all this I hear about anugly dream you have had?"

"A dream?" said Flora, as she fixed her beautiful eyes on his face. 

"Yes, as I understand. "

She shuddered, and was silent. 

"Was it not a dream, then?" added Mr. Chillingworth. 

She wrung her hands, and in a voice of extreme anguish and pathos, said, --

"Would it were a dream--would it were a dream! Oh, if any one could butconvince me it was a dream!"

"Well, will you tell me what it was?"

"Yes, sir, it was a vampyre. "

Mr. Chillingworth glanced at Henry, as he said, in reply to Flora'swords, --

"I suppose that is, after all, another name, Flora, for the nightmare?"

"No--no--no!"

"Do you really, then, persist in believing anything so absurd, MissBannerworth?"

"What can I say to the evidence of my own senses?" she replied. "I sawit, Henry saw it, George saw, Mr. Marchdale, my mother--all saw it. Wecould not all be at the same time the victims of the same delusion. "

"How faintly you speak. "

"I am very faint and ill. "

"Indeed. What wound is that on your neck?"

A wild expression came over the face of Flora; a spasmodic action of themuscles, accompanied with a shuddering, as if a sudden chill had comeover the whole mass of blood took place, and she said, --

"It is the mark left by the teeth of the vampyre. "

The smile was a forced one upon the face of Mr. Chillingworth. 

"Draw up the blind of the window, Mr. Henry, " he said, "and let meexamine this puncture to which your sister attaches so extraordinary ameaning. "

[Illustration]

The blind was drawn up, and a strong light was thrown into the room. Forfull two minutes Mr. Chillingworth attentively examined the two smallwounds in the neck of Flora. He took a powerful magnifying glass fromhis pocket, and looked at them through it, and after his examination wasconcluded, he said, --

"They are very trifling wounds, indeed. "

"But how inflicted?" said Henry. 

"By some insect, I should say, which probably--it being the season formany insects--has flown in at the window"

"I know the motive, " said Flora "which prompts all these suggestions itis a kind one, and I ought to be the last to quarrel with it; but what Ihave seen, nothing can make me believe I saw not, unless I am, as onceor twice I have thought myself, really mad. "

"How do you now feel in general health?"

"Far from well; and a strange drowsiness at times creeps over me. Evennow I feel it. "

She sunk back on the pillows as she spoke and closed her eyes with adeep sigh. 

Mr. Chillingworth beckoned Henry to come with him from the room, but thelatter had promised that he would remain with Flora; and as Mrs. Bannerworth had left the chamber because she was unable to control herfeelings, he rang the bell, and requested that his mother would come. 

She did so, and then Henry went down stairs along with the medical man, whose opinion he was certainly eager to be now made acquainted with. 

As soon as they were alone in an old-fashioned room which was called theoak closet, Henry turned to Mr. Chillingworth, and said, --

"What, now, is your candid opinion, sir? You have seen my sister, andthose strange indubitable evidences of something wrong. "

"I have; and to tell you candidly the truth, Mr. Henry, I am sorelyperplexed. "

"I thought you would be. "

"It is not often that a medical man likes to say so much, nor is it, indeed, often prudent that he should do so, but in this case I own I ammuch puzzled. It is contrary to all my notions upon all such subjects. "

"Those wounds, what do you think of them?"

"I know not what to think. I am completely puzzled as regards them. "

"But, but do they not really bear the appearance of being bites?"

"They really do. "

"And so far, then, they are actually in favour of the dreadfulsupposition which poor Flora entertains. "

"So far they certainly are. I have no doubt in the world of their beingbites; but we not must jump to a conclusion that the teeth whichinflicted them were human. It is a strange case, and one which I feelassured must give you all much uneasiness, as, indeed, it gave me; but, as I said before, I will not let my judgment give in to the fearful anddegrading superstition which all the circumstances connected with thisstrange story would seem to justify. "

"It is a degrading superstition. "

"To my mind your sister seems to be labouring under the effect of somenarcotic. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes; unless she really has lost a quantity of blood, which loss hasdecreased the heart's action sufficiently to produce the languor underwhich she now evidently labours. "

"Oh, that I could believe the former supposition, but I am confident shehas taken no narcotic; she could not even do so by mistake, for there isno drug of the sort in the house. Besides, she is not heedless by anymeans. I am quite convinced she has not done so. "

"Then I am fairly puzzled, my young friend, and I can only say that Iwould freely have given half of what I am worth to see that figure yousaw last night. "

"What would you have done?"

"I would not have lost sight of it for the world's wealth. "

"You would have felt your blood freeze with horror. The face wasterrible. "

"And yet let it lead me where it liked I would have followed it. "

"I wish you had been here. "

"I wish to Heaven I had. If I though there was the least chance ofanother visit I would come and wait with patience every night for amonth. "

"I cannot say, " replied Henry. "I am going to sit up to-night with mysister, and I believe, our friend Mr. Marchdale will share my watch withme. "

Mr. Chillingworth appeared to be for a few moments lost in thought, andthen suddenly rousing himself, as if he found it either impossible tocome to any rational conclusion upon the subject, or had arrived at onewhich he chose to keep to himself, he said, --

"Well, well, we must leave the matter at present as it stands. Time mayaccomplish something towards its development, but at present so palpablea mystery I never came across, or a matter in which human calculationwas so completely foiled. "

"Nor I--nor I. "

"I will send you some medicines, such as I think will be of service toFlora, and depend upon seeing me by ten o'clock to-morrow morning. "

"You have, of course, heard something, " said Henry to the doctor, as hewas pulling on his gloves, "about vampyres. "

"I certainly have, and I understand that in some countries, particularlyNorway and Sweden, the superstition is a very common one. "

"And in the Levant. "

"Yes. The ghouls of the Mahometans are of the same description ofbeings. All that I have heard of the European vampyre has made it abeing which can be killed, but is restored to life again by the rays ofa full moon falling on the body. "

"Yes, yes, I have heard as much. "

"And that the hideous repast of blood has to be taken very frequently, and that if the vampyre gets it not he wastes away, presenting theappearance of one in the last stage of a consumption, and visibly, so tospeak, dying. "

"That is what I have understood. "

"To-night, do you know, Mr. Bannerworth, is the full of the moon. "

Henry started. 

"If now you had succeeded in killing--. Pshaw, what am I saying. Ibelieve I am getting foolish, and that the horrible superstition isbeginning to fasten itself upon me as well as upon all of you. Howstrangely the fancy will wage war with the judgment in such a way asthis. "

"The full of the moon, " repeated Henry, as he glanced towards thewindow, "and the night is near at hand. "

"Banish these thoughts from your mind, " said the doctor, "or else, myyoung friend, you will make yourself decidedly ill. Good evening to you, for it is evening. I shall see you to-morrow morning. "

Mr. Chillingworth appeared now to be anxious to go, and Henry no longeropposed his departure; but when he was gone a sense of great lonelinesscame over him. 

"To-night, " he repeated, "is the full of the moon. How strange that thisdreadful adventure should have taken place just the night before. 'Tisvery strange. Let me see--let me see. "

He took from the shelves of a book case the work which Flora hadmentioned, entitled, "Travels in Norway, " in which work he found someaccount of the popular belief in vampyres. 

He opened the work at random, and then some of the leaves turned over ofthemselves to a particular place, as the leaves of a book willfrequently do when it has been kept open a length of time at that part, and the binding stretched there more than anywhere else. There was anote at the bottom of one of the pages at this part of the book, andHenry read as follows:--

"With regard to these vampyres, it is believed by those who are inclinedto give credence to so dreadful a superstition, that they alwaysendeavour to make their feast of blood, for the revival of their bodilypowers, on some evening immediately preceding a full moon, because ifany accident befal them, such as being shot, or otherwise killed orwounded, they can recover by lying down somewhere where the full moon'srays will fall upon them. "

Henry let the book drop from his hands with a groan and a shudder. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE NIGHT WATCH. --THE PROPOSAL. --THE MOONLIGHT. --THE FEARFUL ADVENTURE. 

[Illustration]

A kind of stupefaction came over Henry Bannerworth, and he sat for abouta quarter of an hour scarcely conscious of where he was, and almostincapable of anything in the shape of rational thought. It was hisbrother, George, who roused him by saying, as he laid his hand upon hisshoulder, --

"Henry, are you asleep?"

Henry had not been aware of his presence, and he started up as if he hadbeen shot. 

"Oh, George, is it you?" he said. 

"Yes, Henry, are you unwell?"

"No, no; I was in a deep reverie. "

"Alas! I need not ask upon what subject, " said George, sadly. "I soughtyou to bring you this letter. "

"A letter to me?"

"Yes, you see it is addressed to you, and the seal looks as if it camefrom someone of consequence. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, Henry. Read it, and see from whence it comes. "

There was just sufficient light by going to the window to enable Henryto read the letter, which he did aloud. 

It ran thus:--

 "Sir Francis Varney presents his compliments to Mr. Beaumont, and is much concerned to hear that some domestic affliction has fallen upon him. Sir Francis hopes that the genuine and loving sympathy of a neighbour will not be regarded as an intrusion, and begs to proffer any assistance or counsel that may be within the compass of his means. 

 "Ratford Abbey. "

"Sir Francis Varney!" said Henry, "who is he?"

"Do you not remember, Henry, " said George, "we were told a few days ago, that a gentleman of that name had become the purchaser of the estate ofRatford Abbey. "

"Oh, yes, yes. Have you seen him?"

"I have not. "

"I do not wish to make any new acquaintance, George. We are verypoor--much poorer indeed than the general appearance of this place, which, I fear, we shall soon have to part with, would warrant any onebelieving. I must, of course, return a civil answer to this gentleman, but it must be such as one as shall repress familiarity. "

"That will be difficult to do while we remain here, when we come toconsider the very close proximity of the two properties, Henry. "

"Oh, no, not at all. He will easily perceive that we do not want to makeacquaintance with him, and then, as a gentleman, which doubtless he is, he will give up the attempt. "

"Let it be so, Henry. Heaven knows I have no desire to form any newacquaintance with any one, and more particularly under our presentcircumstances of depression. And now, Henry, you must permit me, as Ihave had some repose, to share with you your night watch in Flora'sroom. "

"I would advise you not, George; your health, you know, is very far fromgood. "

"Nay, allow me. If not, then the anxiety I shall suffer will do me moreharm than the watchfulness I shall keep up in her chamber. "

This was an argument which Henry felt himself the force of too stronglynot to admit it in the case of George, and he therefore made no furtheropposition to his wish to make one in the night watch. 

"There will be an advantage, " said George, "you see, in three of usbeing engaged in this matter, because, should anything occur, two canact together, and yet Flora may not be left alone. "

"True, true, that is a great advantage. "

Now a soft gentle silvery light began to spread itself over the heavens. The moon was rising, and as the beneficial effects of the storm of thepreceding evening were still felt in the clearness of the air, the raysappeared to be more lustrous and full of beauty than they commonly were. 

Each moment the night grew lighter, and by the time the brothers wereready to take their places in the chamber of Flora, the moon had risenconsiderably. 

Although neither Henry nor George had any objection to the company ofMr. Marchdale, yet they gave him the option, and rather in fact urgedhim not to destroy his night's repose by sitting up with them; but hesaid, --

"Allow me to do so; I am older, and have calmer judgment than you canhave. Should anything again appear, I am quite resolved that it shallnot escape me. "

"What would you do?"

"With the name of God upon my lips, " said Mr. Marchdale, solemnly, "Iwould grapple with it. "

"You laid hands upon it last night. "

"I did, and have forgotten to show you what I tore from it. Lookhere, --what should you say this was?"

He produced a piece of cloth, on which was an old-fashioned piece oflace, and two buttons. Upon a close inspection, this appeared to be aportion of the lapel of a coat of ancient times, and suddenly, Henry, with a look of intense anxiety, said, --

"This reminds me of the fashion of garments very many years ago, Mr. Marchdale. "

"It came away in my grasp as if rotten and incapable of standing anyrough usage. "

"What a strange unearthly smell it has!"

"Now you mention it yourself, " added Mr. Marchdale, "I must confess itsmells to me as if it had really come from the very grave. "

"It does--it does. Say nothing of this relic of last night's work to anyone. "

"Be assured I shall not. I am far from wishing to keep up in any one'smind proofs of that which I would fain, very fain refute. "

Mr. Marchdale replaced the portion of the coat which the figure had wornin his pocket, and then the whole three proceeded to the chamber ofFlora. 

 * * * * *

It was within a very few minutes of midnight, the moon had climbed highin the heavens, and a night of such brightness and beauty had seldomshown itself for a long period of time. 

Flora slept, and in her chamber sat the two brothers and Mr. Marchdale, silently, for she had shown symptoms of restlessness, and they muchfeared to break the light slumber into which she had fallen. 

Occasionally they had conversed in whispers, which could not have theeffect of rousing her, for the room, although smaller than the one shehad before occupied, was still sufficiently spacious to enable them toget some distance from the bed. 

Until the hour of midnight now actually struck, they were silent, andwhen the last echo of the sounds had died away, a feeling of uneasinesscame over them, which prompted some conversation to get rid of it. 

"How bright the moon is now, " said Henry, in a low tone. 

"I never saw it brighter, " replied Marchdale. "I feel as if I wereassured that we shall not to-night be interrupted. "

"It was later than this, " said Henry. 

"It was--it was. "

"Do not then yet congratulate us upon no visit. "

"How still the house is!" remarked George; "it seems to me as if I hadnever found it so intensely quiet before. "

"It is very still. "

"Hush! she moves. "

Flora moaned in her sleep, and made a slight movement. The curtains wereall drawn closely round the bed to shield her eyes from the brightmoonlight which streamed into the room so brilliantly. They might haveclosed the shutters of the window, but this they did not like to do, asit would render their watch there of no avail at all, inasmuch as theywould not be able to see if any attempt was made by any one to obtainadmittance. 

A quarter of an hour longer might have thus passed when Mr. Marchdalesaid in a whisper, --

"A thought has just struck me that the piece of coat I have, which Idragged from the figure last night, wonderfully resembles in colour andappearance the style of dress of the portrait in the room which Floralately slept in. "

"I thought of that, " said Henry, "when first I saw it; but, to tell thehonest truth, I dreaded to suggest any new proof connected with lastnight's visitation. "

"Then I ought not to have drawn your attention to it, " said Mr. Marchdale, "and regret I have done so. "

"Nay, do not blame yourself on such an account, " said Henry. "You arequite right, and it is I who am too foolishly sensitive. Now, however, since you have mentioned it, I must own I have a great desire to testthe accuracy of the observation by a comparison with the portrait. "

"That may easily be done. "

"I will remain here, " said George, "in case Flora awakens, while you twogo if you like. It is but across the corridor. "

Henry immediately rose, saying--

"Come, Mr. Marchdale, come. Let us satisfy ourselves at all events uponthis point at once. As George says it is only across the corridor, andwe can return directly. "

"I am willing, " said Mr. Marchdale, with a tone of sadness. 

There was no light needed, for the moon stood suspended in a cloudlesssky, so that from the house being a detached one, and containingnumerous windows, it was as light as day. 

Although the distance from one chamber to the other was only across thecorridor, it was a greater space than these words might occupy, for thecorridor was wide, neither was it directly across, but considerablyslanting. However, it was certainly sufficiently close at hand for anysound of alarm from one chamber to reach another without any difficulty. 

A few moments sufficed to place Henry and Mr. Marchdale in that antiqueroom, where, from the effect of the moonlight which was streaming overit, the portrait on the panel looked exceedingly life like. 

And this effect was probably the greater because the rest of the roomwas not illuminated by the moon's rays, which came through a window inthe corridor, and then at the open door of that chamber upon theportrait. 

Mr. Marchdale held the piece of cloth he had close to the dress of theportrait, and one glance was sufficient to show the wonderful likenessbetween the two. 

"Good God!" said Henry, "it is the same. "

Mr. Marchdale dropped the piece of cloth and trembled. 

"This fact shakes even your scepticism, " said Henry. 

"I know not what to make of it. "

"I can tell you something which bears upon it. I do not know if you aresufficiently aware of my family history to know that this one of myancestors, I wish I could say worthy ancestors, committed suicide, andwas buried in his clothes. "

"You--you are sure of that?"

"Quite sure. "

"I am more and more bewildered as each moment some strange corroborativefact of that dreadful supposition we so much shrink from seems to cometo light and to force itself upon our attention. "

There was a silence of a few moments duration, and Henry had turnedtowards Mr. Marchdale to say something, when the cautious tread of afootstep was heard in the garden, immediately beneath that balcony. 

A sickening sensation came over Henry, and he was compelled to leanagainst the wall for support, as in scarcely articulate accents hesaid--

"The vampyre--the vampyre! God of heaven, it has come once again!"

"Now, Heaven inspire us with more than mortal courage, " cried Mr. Marchdale, and he dashed open the window at once, and sprang into thebalcony. 

Henry in a moment recovered himself sufficiently to follow him, and whenhe reached his side in the balcony, Marchdale said, as he pointedbelow, --

"There is some one concealed there. "

"Where--where?"

"Among the laurels. I will fire a random shot, and we may do someexecution. "

"Hold!" said a voice from below; "don't do any such thing, I beg ofyou. "

"Why, that is Mr. Chillingworth's voice, " cried Henry. 

"Yes, and it's Mr. Chillingworth's person, too, " said the doctor, as heemerged from among some laurel bushes. 

"How is this?" said Marchdale. 

"Simply that I made up my mind to keep watch and ward to-night outsidehere, in the hope of catching the vampyre. I got into here by climbingthe gate. "

"But why did you not let me know?" said Henry. 

"Because I did not know myself, my young friend, till an hour and a halfago. "

"Have you seen anything?"

"Nothing. But I fancied I heard something in the park outside the wall. "

"Indeed!"

"What say you, Henry, " said Mr. Marchdale, "to descending and taking ahasty examination of the garden and grounds?"

"I am willing; but first allow me to speak to George, who otherwisemight be surprised at our long absence. "

Henry walked rapidly to the bed chamber of Flora, and be said toGeorge, --

"Have you any objection to being left alone here for about half an hour, George, while we make an examination of the garden?"

"Let me have some weapon and I care not. Remain here while I fetch asword from my own room. "

Henry did so, and when George returned with a sword, which he alwayskept in his bed-room, he said, --

"Now go, Henry. I prefer a weapon of this description to pistols much. Do not be longer gone than necessary. "

"I will not, George, be assured. "

George was then left alone, and Henry returned to the balcony, where Mr. Marchdale was waiting for him. It was a quicker mode of descending tothe garden to do so by clambering over the balcony than any other, andthe height was not considerable enough to make it very objectionable, soHenry and Mr. Marchdale chose that way of joining Mr. Chillingworth. 

"You are, no doubt, much surprised at finding me here, " said the doctor;"but the fact is, I half made up my mind to come while I was here; but Ihad not thoroughly done so, therefore I said nothing to you about it. "

"We are much indebted to you, " said Henry, "for making the attempt. "

"I am prompted to it by a feeling of the strongest curiosity. "

"Are you armed, sir?" said Marchdale. 

"In this stick, " said the doctor, "is a sword, the exquisite temper ofwhich I know I can depend upon, and I fully intended to run through anyone whom I saw that looked in the least of the vampyre order. "

"You would have done quite right, " replied Mr. Marchdale. "I have abrace of pistols here, loaded with ball; will you take one, Henry, ifyou please, and then we shall be all armed. "

Thus, then, prepared for any exigency, they made the whole round of thehouse; but found all the fastenings secure, and everything as quiet aspossible. 

"Suppose, now, we take a survey of the park outside the garden wall, "said Mr. Marchdale. 

This was agreed to; but before they had proceeded far, Mr. Marchdalesaid, --

"There is a ladder lying on the wall; would it not be a good plan toplace it against the very spot the supposed vampyre jumped over lastnight, and so, from a more elevated position, take a view of the openmeadows. We could easily drop down on the outer side, if we saw anythingsuspicious. "

"Not a bad plan, " said the doctor. "Shall we do it?"

"Certainly, " said Henry; and they accordingly carried the ladder, whichhad been used for pruning the trees, towards the spot at the end of thelong walk, at which the vampyre had made good, after so many fruitlessefforts, his escape from the premises. 

They made haste down the long vista of trees until they reached theexact spot, and then they placed the ladder as near as possible, exactlywhere Henry, in his bewilderment on the evening before, had seen theapparition from the grave spring to. 

"We can ascend singly, " said Marchdale; "but there is ample space for usall there to sit on the top of the wall and make our observations. "

This was seen to be the case, and in about a couple of minutes they hadtaken up their positions on the wall, and, although the height was buttrifling, they found that they had a much more extensive view than theycould have obtained by any other means. 

"To contemplate the beauty of such a night as this, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "is amply sufficient compensation for coming the distanceI have. "

"And who knows, " remarked Marchdale, "we may yet see something which maythrow a light upon our present perplexities God knows that I would giveall I can call mine in the world to relieve you and your sister, HenryBannerworth, from the fearful effect which last night's proceedingscannot fail to have upon you. "

"Of that I am well assured, Mr. Marchdale, " said Henry. "If thehappiness of myself and family depended upon you, we should be happyindeed. "

"You are silent, Mr. Chillingworth, " remarked Marchdale, after a slightpause. 

"Hush!" said Mr. Chillingworth--"hush--hush!"

"Good God, what do you hear?" cried Henry. 

The doctor laid his hand upon Henry's arm as he said, --

"There is a young lime tree yonder to the right. "

"Yes--yes. "

"Carry your eye from it in a horizontal line, as near as you can, towards the wood. "

Henry did so, and then he uttered a sudden exclamation of surprise, andpointed to a rising spot of ground, which was yet, in consequence of thenumber of tall trees in its vicinity, partially enveloped in shadow. 

"What is that?" he said. 

"I see something, " said Marchdale. "By Heaven! it is a human form lyingstretched there. "

"It is--as if in death. "

"What can it be?" said Chillingworth. 

"I dread to say, " replied Marchdale; "but to my eyes, even at thisdistance, it seems like the form of him we chased last night. "

"The vampyre?"

"Yes--yes. Look, the moonbeams touch him. Now the shadows of the treesgradually recede. God of Heaven! the figure moves. "

Henry's eyes were riveted to that fearful object, and now a scenepresented itself which filled them all with wonder and astonishment, mingled with sensations of the greatest awe and alarm. 

As the moonbeams, in consequence of the luminary rising higher andhigher in the heavens, came to touch this figure that lay extended onthe rising ground, a perceptible movement took place in it. The limbsappeared to tremble, and although it did not rise up, the whole bodygave signs of vitality. 

"The vampyre--the vampyre!" said Mr. Marchdale. "I cannot doubt it now. We must have hit him last night with the pistol bullets, and themoonbeams are now restoring him to a new life. "

Henry shuddered, and even Mr. Chillingworth turned pale. But he was thefirst to recover himself sufficiently to propose some course of action, and he said, --

"Let us descend and go up to this figure. It is a duty we owe toourselves as much as to society. "

"Hold a moment, " said Mr. Marchdale, as he produced a pistol. "I am anunerring shot, as you well know, Henry. Before we move from thisposition we now occupy, allow me to try what virtue may be in a bulletto lay that figure low again. "

"He is rising!" exclaimed Henry. 

Mr. Marchdale levelled the pistol--he took a sure and deliberate aim, and then, just as the figure seemed to be struggling to its feet, hefired, and, with a sudden bound, it fell again. 

"You have hit it, " said Henry. 

"You have indeed, " exclaimed the doctor. "I think we can go now. "

"Hush!" said Marchdale--"Hush! Does it not seem to you that, hit it asoften as you will, the moonbeams will recover it?"

"Yes--yes, " said Henry, "they will--they will. "

"I can endure this no longer, " said Mr. Chillingworth, as he sprung fromthe wall. "Follow me or not, as you please, I will seek the spot wherethis being lies. "

"Oh, be not rash, " cried Marchdale. "See, it rises again, and its formlooks gigantic. "

"I trust in Heaven and a righteous cause, " said the doctor, as he drewthe sword he had spoken of from the stick, and threw away the scabbard. "Come with me if you like, or I go alone. "

Henry at once jumped down from the wall, and then Marchdale followedhim, saying, --

"Come on; I will not shrink. "

They ran towards the piece of rising ground; but before they got to it, the form rose and made rapidly towards a little wood which was in theimmediate neighbourhood of the hillock. 

"It is conscious of being pursued, " cried the doctor. "See how itglances back, and then increases its speed. "

"Fire upon it, Henry, " said Marchdale. 

He did so; but either his shot did not take effect, or it was quiteunheeded if it did, by the vampyre, which gained the wood before theycould have a hope of getting sufficiently near it to effect, orendeavour to effect, a capture. 

"I cannot follow it there, " said Marchdale. "In open country I wouldhave pursued it closely; but I cannot follow it into the intricacies ofa wood. "

"Pursuit is useless there, " said Henry. "It is enveloped in the deepestgloom. "

"I am not so unreasonable, " remarked Mr. Chillingworth, "as to wish youto follow into such a place as that. I am confounded utterly by thisaffair. "

"And I, " said Marchdale. "What on earth is to be done?"

"Nothing--nothing!" exclaimed Henry, vehemently; "and yet I have, beneath the canopy of Heaven, declared that I will, so help me God!spare neither time nor trouble in the unravelling of this most fearfulpiece of business. Did either of you remark the clothing which thisspectral appearance wore?"

"They were antique clothes, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "such as might havebeen fashionable a hundred years ago, but not now. "

"Such was my impression, " added Marchdale. 

"And such my own, " said Henry, excitedly. "Is it at all within thecompass of the wildest belief that what we have seen is a vampyre, andno other than my ancestor who, a hundred years ago, committed suicide?"

There was so much intense excitement, and evidence of mental suffering, that Mr. Chillingworth took him by the arm, saying, --

"Come home--come home; no more of this at present; you will but makeyourself seriously unwell. "

"No--no--no. "

"Come home now, I pray you; you are by far too much excited about thismatter to pursue it with the calmness which should be brought to bearupon it. "

"Take advice, Henry, " said Marchdale, "take advice, and come home atonce. "

"I will yield to you; I feel that I cannot control my own feelings--Iwill yield to you, who, as you say, are cooler on this subject than Ican be. Oh, Flora, Flora, I have no comfort to bring to you now. "

Poor Henry Bannerworth appeared to be in a complete state of mentalprostration, on account of the distressing circumstances that hadoccurred so rapidly and so suddenly in his family, which had had quiteenough to contend with without having superadded to every other evil thehorror of believing that some preternatural agency was at work todestroy every hope of future happiness in this world, under anycircumstances. 

He suffered himself to be led home by Mr. Chillingworth and Marchdale;he no longer attempted to dispute the dreadful fact concerning thesupposed vampyre; he could not contend now against all the corroboratingcircumstances that seemed to collect together for the purpose of provingthat which, even when proved, was contrary to all his notions of Heaven, and at variance with all that was recorded and established is part andparcel of the system of nature. 

"I cannot deny, " he said, when they had reached home, "that such thingsare possible; but the probability will not bear a moment'sinvestigation. "

"There are more things, " said Marchdale, solemnly, "in Heaven, and onearth, than are dreamed of in our philosophy. "

"There are indeed, it appears, " said Mr. Chillingworth. 

"And are you a convert?" said Henry, turning to him. 

"A convert to what?"

"To a belief in--in--these vampyres?"

"I? No, indeed; if you were to shut me up in a room full of vampyres, Iwould tell them all to their teeth that I defied them. "

"But after what we have seen to-night?"

"What have we seen?"

"You are yourself a witness. "

"True; I saw a man lying down, and then I saw a man get up; he seemedthen to be shot, but whether he was or not he only knows; and then I sawhim walk off in a desperate hurry. Beyond that, I saw nothing. "

"Yes; but, taking such circumstances into combination with others, haveyou not a terrible fear of the truth of the dreadful appearance?"

"No--no; on my soul, no. I will die in my disbelief of such an outrageupon Heaven as one of these creatures would most assuredly be. "

"Oh! that I could think like you; but the circumstance strikes toonearly to my heart. "

"Be of better cheer, Henry--be of better cheer, " said Marchdale; "thereis one circumstance which we ought to consider, it is that, from all wehave seen, there seems to be some things which would favour an opinion, Henry, that your ancestor, whose portrait hangs in the chamber which wasoccupied by Flora, is the vampyre. "

"The dress was the same, " said Henry. 

"I noted it was. "

"And I. "

"Do you not, then, think it possible that something might be done to setthat part of the question at rest?"

"What--what?"

"Where is your ancestor buried?"

"Ah! I understand you now. "

"And I, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "you would propose a visit to hismansion?"

"I would, " added Marchdale; "anything that may in any way tend to assistin making this affair clearer, and divesting it of its mysteriouscircumstances, will be most desirable. "

Henry appeared to rouse for some moments and then he said, --

"He, in common with many other members of the family, no doubt occupiesplace in the vault under the old church in the village. "

"Would it be possible, " asked Marchdale, "to get into that vault withoutexciting general attention?"

"It would, " said Henry; "the entrance to the vault is in the flooring ofthe pew which belongs to the family in the old church. "

"Then it could be done?" asked Mr. Chillingworth. 

"Most undoubtedly. "

"Will you under take such an adventure?" said Mr. Chillingworth. "It mayease your mind. "

"He was buried in the vault, and in his clothes, " said Henry, musingly;"I will think of it. About such a proposition I would not decidehastily. Give me leave to think of it until to-morrow. "

"Most certainly. "

[Illustration]

They now made their way to the chamber of Flora, and they heard fromGeorge that nothing of an alarming character had occurred to disturb himon his lonely watch. The morning was now again dawning, and Henryearnestly entreated Mr. Marchdale to go to bed, which he did, leavingthe two brothers to continue as sentinels by Flora's bed side, until themorning light should banish all uneasy thoughts. 

Henry related to George what had taken place outside the house, and thetwo brothers held a long and interesting conversation for some hoursupon that subject, as well as upon others of great importance to theirwelfare. It was not until the sun's early rays came glaring in at thecasement that they both rose, and thought of awakening Flora, who hadnow slept soundly for so many hours. 

CHAPTER VI. 

A GLANCE AT THE BANNERWORTH FAMILY. --THE PROBABLE CONSEQUENCES OF THEMYSTERIOUS APPARITION'S APPEARANCE. 

[Illustration]

Having thus far, we hope, interested our readers in the fortunes of afamily which had become subject to so dreadful a visitation, we trustthat a few words concerning them, and the peculiar circumstances inwhich they are now placed, will not prove altogether out of place, orunacceptable. The Bannerworth family then were well known in the part ofthe country where they resided. Perhaps, if we were to say they werebetter known by name than they were liked, on account of that name, weshould be near the truth, for it had unfortunately happened that for avery considerable time past the head of the family had been the veryworst specimen of it that could be procured. While the junior brancheswere frequently amiable and most intelligent, and such in mind andmanner as were calculated to inspire goodwill in all who knew them, hewho held the family property, and who resided in the house now occupiedby Flora and her brothers, was a very so--so sort of character. 

This state of things, by some strange fatality, had gone on for nearly ahundred years, and the consequence was what might have been fairlyexpected, namely--that, what with their vices and what with theirextravagances, the successive heads of the Bannerworth family hadsucceeded in so far diminishing the family property that, when it cameinto the hands of Henry Bannerworth, it was of little value, on accountof the numerous encumbrances with which it was saddled. 

The father of Henry had not been a very brilliant exception to thegeneral rule, as regarded the head of the family. If he were not quiteso bad as many of his ancestors, that gratifying circumstance was to beaccounted for by the supposition that he was not quite so bold, and thatthe change in habits, manners, and laws, which had taken place in ahundred years, made it not so easy for even a landed proprietor to playthe petty tyrant. 

He had, to get rid of those animal spirits which had prompted many ofhis predecessors to downright crimes, had recourse to the gaming-table, and, after raising whatever sums he could upon the property whichremained, he naturally, and as might have been fully expected, lost themall. 

He was found lying dead in the garden of the house one day, and by hisside was his pocket-book, on one leaf of which, it was the impression ofthe family, he had endeavoured to write something previous to hisdecease, for he held a pencil firmly in his grasp. 

The probability was that he had felt himself getting ill, and, beingdesirous of making some communication to his family which pressedheavily upon his mind, he had attempted to do so, but was stopped by thetoo rapid approach of the hand of death. 

For some days previous to his decease, his conduct had been extremelymysterious. He had announced an intention of leaving England forever--of selling the house and grounds for whatever they would fetchover and above the sums for which they were mortgaged, and so clearinghimself of all encumbrances. 

He had, but a few hours before he was found lying dead, made thefollowing singular speech to Henry, --

"Do not regret, Henry, that the old house which has been in our familyso long is about to be parted with. Be assured that, if it is but forthe first time in my life, I have good and substantial reasons now forwhat I am about to do. We shall be able to go some other country, andthere live like princes of the land. "

Where the means were to come from to live like a prince, unless Mr. Bannerworth had some of the German princes in his eye, no one knew buthimself, and his sudden death buried with him that most importantsecret. 

There were some words written on the leaf of his pocket-book, but theywere of by far too indistinct and ambiguous a nature to lead toanything. They were these:--

"The money is ----------"

And then there was a long scrawl of the pencil, which seemed to havebeen occasioned by his sudden decease. 

Of course nothing could be made of these words, except in the way of acontradiction as the family lawyer said, rather more facetiously than aman of law usually speaks, for if he had written "The money is not, " hewould have been somewhere remarkably near the truth. 

However, with all his vices he was regretted by his children, who choserather to remember him in his best aspect than to dwell upon his faults. 

For the first time then, within the memory of man, the head of thefamily of the Bannerworths was a gentleman, in every sense of the word. Brave, generous, highly educated, and full of many excellent and noblequalities--for such was Henry, whom we have introduced to our readersunder such distressing circumstances. 

And now, people said, that the family property having been alldissipated and lost, there would take place a change, and that theBannerworths would have to take to some course of honourable industryfor a livelihood, and that then they would be as much respected as theyhad before been detested and disliked. 

Indeed, the position which Henry held was now a most precarious one--forone of the amazingly clever acts of his father had been to encumber theproperty with overwhelming claims, so that when Henry administered tothe estate, it was doubted almost by his attorney if it were at alldesirable to do so. 

An attachment, however, to the old house of his family, had induced theyoung man to hold possession of it as long as he could, despite anyadverse circumstance which might eventually be connected with it. 

Some weeks, however, only after the decease of his father, and when hefairly held possession, a sudden and a most unexpected offer came to himfrom a solicitor in London, of whom he knew nothing, to purchase thehouse and grounds, for a client of his, who had instructed him so to do, but whom he did not mention. 

The offer made was a liberal one, and beyond the value of the place. The lawyer who had conducted Henry's affairs for him since his father'sdecease, advised him by all means to take it; but after a consultationwith his mother and sister, and George, they all resolved to hold bytheir own house as long as they could, and, consequently, he refused theoffer. 

He was then asked to let the place, and to name his own price for theoccupation of it; but that he would not do: so the negotiation went offaltogether, leaving only, in the minds of the family, much surprise atthe exceeding eagerness of some one, whom they knew not, to getpossession of the place on any terms. 

There was another circumstance perhaps which materially aided inproducing a strong feeling on the minds of the Bannerworths, with regardto remaining where they were. 

That circumstance occurred thus: a relation of the family, who was nowdead, and with whom had died all his means, had been in the habit, forthe last half dozen years of his life, of sending a hundred pounds toHenry, for the express purpose of enabling him and his brother Georgeand his sifter Flora to take a little continental or home tour, in theautumn of the year. 

A more acceptable present, or for a more delightful purpose, to youngpeople, could not be found; and, with the quiet, prudent habits of allthree of them, they contrived to go far and to see much for the sumwhich was thus handsomely placed at their disposal. 

In one of those excursions, when among the mountains of Italy, anadventure occurred which placed the life of Flora in imminent hazard. 

They were riding along a narrow mountain path, and, her horse slipping, she fell over the ledge of a precipice. 

In an instant, a young man, a stranger to the whole party, who wastravelling in the vicinity, rushed to the spot, and by his knowledge andexertions, they felt convinced her preservation was effected. 

He told her to lie quiet; he encouraged her to hope for immediatesuccour; and then, with much personal exertion, and at immense risk tohimself, he reached the ledge of rock on which she lay, and then hesupported her until the brothers had gone to a neighbouring house, which, bye-the-bye, was two good English miles off, and got assistance. 

There came on, while they were gone, a terrific storm, and Flora feltthat but for him who was with her she must have been hurled from therock, and perished in an abyss below, which was almost too deep forobservation. 

Suffice it to say that she was rescued; and he who had, by hisintrepidity, done so much towards saving her, was loaded with the mostsincere and heartfelt acknowledgments by the brothers as well as byherself. 

He frankly told them that his name was Holland; that he was travellingfor amusement and instruction, and was by profession an artist. 

He travelled with them for some time; and it was not at all to bewondered at, under the circumstances, that an attachment of thetenderest nature should spring up between him and the beautiful girl, who felt that she owed to him her life. 

Mutual glances of affection were exchanged between them, and it wasarranged that when he returned to England, he should come at once as anhonoured guest to the house of the family of the Bannerworths. 

All this was settled satisfactorily with the full knowledge andacquiescence of the two brothers, who had taken a strange attachment tothe young Charles Holland, who was indeed in every way likely topropitiate the good opinion of all who knew him. 

Henry explained to him exactly how they were situated, and told him thatwhen he came he would find a welcome from all, except possibly hisfather, whose wayward temper he could not answer for. 

Young Holland stated that he was compelled to be away for a term of twoyears, from certain family arrangements he had entered into, and thatthen he would return and hope to meet Flora unchanged as he should be. 

It happened that this was the last of the continental excursions of theBannerworths, for, before another year rolled round, the generousrelative who had supplied them with the means of making such delightfultrips was no more; and, likewise, the death of the father had occurredin the manner we have related, so that there was no chance as had beenanticipated and hoped for by Flora, of meeting Charles Holland on thecontinent again, before his two years of absence from England should beexpired. 

Such, however, being the state of things, Flora felt reluctant to giveup the house, where he would be sure to come to look for her, and herhappiness was too dear to Henry to induce him to make any sacrifice ofit to expediency. 

Therefore was it that Bannerworth Hall, as it was sometimes called, wasretained, and fully intended to be retained at all events until afterCharles Holland had made his appearance, and his advice (for he was, bythe young people, considered as one of the family) taken, with regard towhat was advisable to be done. 

With one exception this was the state of affairs at the hall, and thatexception relates to Mr. Marchdale. 

He was a distant relation of Mrs. Bannerworth, and, in early life, hadbeen sincerely and tenderly attached to her. She, however, with the wantof steady reflection of a young girl, as she then was, had, as isgenerally the case among several admirers, chosen the very worst: thatis, the man who treated her with the most indifference, and who paid herthe least attention, was of course, thought the most of, and she gaveher hand to him. 

That man was Mr. Bannerworth. But future experience had made herthoroughly awake to her former error; and, but for the love she bore herchildren, who were certainly all that a mother's heart could wish, shewould often have deeply regretted the infatuation which had induced herto bestow her hand in the quarter she had done so. 

About a month after the decease of Mr. Bannerworth, there came one tothe hall, who desired to see the widow. That one was Mr. Marchdale. 

It might have been some slight tenderness towards him which had neverleft her, or it might be the pleasure merely of seeing one whom she hadknown intimately in early life, but, be that as it may, she certainlygave him a kindly welcome; and he, after consenting to remain for sometime as a visitor at the hall, won the esteem of the whole family by hisfrank demeanour and cultivated intellect. 

He had travelled much and seen much, and he had turned to good accountall he had seen, so that not only was Mr. Marchdale a man of sterlingsound sense, but he was a most entertaining companion. 

His intimate knowledge of many things concerning which they knew littleor nothing; his accurate modes of thought, and a quiet, gentlemanlydemeanour, such as is rarely to be met with, combined to make himesteemed by the Bannerworths. He had a small independence of his own, and being completely alone in the world, for he had neither wife norchild, Marchdale owned that he felt a pleasure in residing with theBannerworths. 

Of course he could not, in decent terms, so far offend them as to offerto pay for his subsistence, but he took good care that they shouldreally be no losers by having him as an inmate, a matter which he couldeasily arrange by little presents of one kind and another, all of whichhe managed should be such as were not only ornamental, but actuallyspared his kind entertainers some positive expense which otherwise theymust have gone to. 

Whether or not this amiable piece of manoeuvring was seen through by theBannerworths it is not our purpose to inquire. If it was seen through, it could not lower him in their esteem, for it was probably just whatthey themselves would have felt a pleasure in doing under similarcircumstances, and if they did not observe it, Mr. Marchdale would, probably, be all the better pleased. 

Such then may be considered by our readers as a brief outline of thestate of affairs among the Bannerworths--a state which was pregnant withchanges, and which changes were now likely to be rapid and conclusive. 

How far the feelings of the family towards the ancient house of theirrace would be altered by the appearance at it of so fearful a visitor asa vampyre, we will not stop to inquire, inasmuch as such feelings willdevelop themselves as we proceed. 

That the visitation had produced a serious effect upon all the householdwas sufficiently evident, as well among the educated as among theignorant. On the second morning, Henry received notice to quit hisservice from the three servants he with difficulty had contrived to keepat the hall. The reason why he received such notice he knew well enough, and therefore he did not trouble himself to argue about a superstitionto which he felt now himself almost, compelled to give way; for howcould he say there was no such thing as a vampyre, when he had, with hisown eyes, had the most abundant evidence of the terrible fact?

He calmly paid the servants, and allowed them to leave him at oncewithout at all entering into the matter, and, for the time being, somemen were procured, who, however, came evidently with fear and trembling, and probably only took the place, on account of not being able, toprocure any other. The comfort of the household was likely to becompletely put an end to, and reasons now for leaving the hall appearedto be most rapidly accumulating. 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE VISIT TO THE VAULT OF THE BANNERWORTHS, AND ITS UNPLEASANTRESULT. --THE MYSTERY. 

[Illustration]

Henry and his brother roused Flora, and after agreeing together that itwould be highly imprudent to say anything to her of the proceedings ofthe night, they commenced a conversation with her in encouraging andkindly accents. 

"Well, Flora, " said Henry, "you see you have been quite undisturbedto-night. "

"I have slept long, dear Henry. "

"You have, and pleasantly too, I hope. "

"I have not had any dreams, and I feel much refreshed, now, and quitewell again. "

"Thank Heaven!" said George. 

"If you will tell dear mother that I am awake, I will get up with herassistance. "

The brothers left the room, and they spoke to each other of it as afavourable sign, that Flora did not object to being left alone now, asshe had done on the preceding morning. 

"She is fast recovering, now, George, " said Henry. "If we could now butpersuade ourselves that all this alarm would pass away, and that weshould hear no more of it, we might return to our old and comparativelyhappy condition. "

"Let us believe, Henry, that we shall. "

"And yet, George, I shall not be satisfied in my mind, until I have paida visit. "

"A visit? Where?"

"To the family vault. "

"Indeed, Henry! I thought you had abandoned that idea. "

"I had. I have several times abandoned it; but it comes across my mindagain and again. "

"I much regret it. "

"Look you, George; as yet, everything that has happened has tended toconfirm a belief in this most horrible of all superstitions concerningvampyres. "

"It has. "

"Now, my great object, George, is to endeavour to disturb such a stateof things, by getting something, however slight, or of a negativecharacter, for the mind to rest upon on the other side of the question. "

"I comprehend you, Henry. "

"You know that at present we are not only led to believe, almostirresistibly that we have been visited here by a vampyre but that thatvampyre is our ancestor, whose portrait is on the panel of the wall ofthe chamber into which he contrived to make his way. "

"True, most true. "

"Then let us, by an examination of the family vault, George, put an endto one of the evidences. If we find, as most surely we shall, the coffinof the ancestor of ours, who seems, in dress and appearance, so horriblymixed up in this affair, we shall be at rest on that head. "

"But consider how many years have elapsed. "

"Yes, a great number. "

"What then, do you suppose, could remain of any corpse placed in a vaultso long ago?"

"Decomposition must of course have done its work, but still there mustbe a something to show that a corpse has so undergone the process commonto all nature. Double the lapse of time surely could not obliterate alltraces of that which had been. "

"There is reason in that, Henry. "

"Besides, the coffins are all of lead, and some of stone, so that theycannot have all gone. "

"True, most true. "

"If in the one which, from the inscription and the date, we discover tobe that of our ancestor whom we seek, we find the evident remains of acorpse, we shall be satisfied that he has rested in his tomb in peace. "

"Brother, you seem bent on this adventure, " said George; "if you go, Iwill accompany you. "

"I will not engage rashly in it, George. Before I finally decide, I willagain consult with Mr. Marchdale. His opinion will weigh much with me. "

"And in good time, here he comes across the garden, " said George, as helooked from the window of the room in which they sat. 

It was Mr. Marchdale, and the brothers warmly welcomed him as he enteredthe apartment. 

"You have been early afoot, " said Henry. 

"I have, " he said. "The fact is, that although at your solicitation Iwent to bed, I could not sleep, and I went out once more to search aboutthe spot where we had seen the--the I don't know what to call it, for Ihave a great dislike to naming it a vampyre. "

"There is not much in a name, " said George. 

"In this instance there is, " said Marchdale. "It is a name suggestive ofhorror. "

"Made you any discovery?" said Henry. 

"None whatever. "

"You saw no trace of any one?"

"Not the least. "

"Well, Mr. Marchdale, George and I were talking over this projectedvisit to the family vault. "

"Yes. "

"And we agreed to suspend our judgments until we saw you, and learnedyour opinion. "

"Which I will tell you frankly, " said Mr. Marchdale, "because I know youdesire it freely. "

"Do so. "

"It is, that you make the visit. "

"Indeed. "

"Yes, and for this reason. You have now, as you cannot help having, adisagreeable feeling, that you may find that one coffin is untenanted. Now, if you do find it so, you scarcely make matters worse, by anadditional confirmation of what already amounts to a strong supposition, and one which is likely to grow stronger by time. "

"True, most true. "

"On the contrary, if you find indubitable proofs that your ancestor hasslept soundly in the tomb, and gone the way of all flesh, you will findyourselves much calmer, and that an attack is made upon the train ofevents which at present all run one way. "

"That is precisely the argument I was using to George, " said Henry, "afew moments since. "

"Then let us go, " said George, "by all means. "

"It is so decided then, " said Henry. 

"Let it be done with caution, " replied Mr. Marchdale. 

"If any one can manage it, of course we can. "

"Why should it not be done secretly and at night? Of course we losenothing by making a night visit to a vault into which daylight, Ipresume, cannot penetrate. "

"Certainly not. "

"Then let it be at night. "

"But we shall surely require the concurrence of some of the churchauthorities. "

"Nay, I do not see that, " interposed Mr. Marchdale. "It is the vaultactually vested in and belonging to yourself you wish to visit, and, therefore, you have right to visit it in any manner or at any time thatmay be most suitable to yourself. "

"But detection in a clandestine visit might produce unpleasantconsequences. "

"The church is old, " said George, "and we could easily find means ofgetting into it. There is only one objection that I see, just now, andthat is, that we leave Flora unprotected. "

"We do, indeed, " said Henry. "I did not think of that. "

"It must be put to herself, as a matter for her own consideration, " saidMr. Marchdale, "if she will consider herself sufficiently safe with thecompany and protection of your mother only. "

"It would be a pity were we not all three present at the examination ofthe coffin, " remarked Henry. 

"It would, indeed. There is ample evidence, " said Mr. Marchdale, "but wemust not give Flora a night of sleeplessness and uneasiness on thataccount, and the more particularly as we cannot well explain to herwhere we are going, or upon what errand. "

"Certainly not. "

"Let us talk to her, then, about it, " said Henry. "I confess I am muchbent upon the plan, and fain would not forego it; neither should I likeother than that we three should go together. "

"If you determine, then, upon it, " said Marchdale, "we will go to-night;and, from your acquaintance with the place, doubtless you will be ableto decide what tools are necessary. "

"There is a trap-door at the bottom of the pew, " said Henry; "it is notonly secured down, but it is locked likewise, and I have the key in mypossession. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes; immediately beneath is a short flight of stone steps, whichconduct at once into the vault. "

"Is it large?"

"No; about the size of a moderate chamber, and with no intricacies aboutit. "

"There can be no difficulties, then. "

"None whatever, unless we meet with actual personal interruption, whichI am inclined to think is very far from likely. All we shall requirewill be a screwdriver, with which to remove the screws, and thensomething with which to wrench open the coffin. "

"Those we can easily provide, along with lights, " remarked Mr. Marchdale. 

"I hope to Heaven that this visit to the tomb will have the effect ofeasing your minds, and enabling you to make a successful stand againstthe streaming torrent of evidence that has poured in upon us regardingthis most fearful of apparitions. "

"I do, indeed, hope so, " added Henry; "and now I will go at once toFlora, and endeavour to convince her she is safe without us to-night. "

"By-the-bye, I think, " said Marchdale, "that if we can induce Mr. Chillingworth to come with us, it will be a great point gained in theinvestigation. "

"He would, " said Henry, "be able to come to an accurate decision withrespect to the remains--if any--in the coffin, which we could not. "

"Then have him, by all means, " said George. "He did not seem averse lastnight to go on such an adventure. "

"I will ask him when he makes his visit this morning upon Flora; andshould he not feel disposed to join us, I am quite sure he will keep thesecret of our visit. "

All this being arranged, Henry proceeded to Flora, and told her that heand George, and Mr. Marchdale wished to go out for about a couple ofhours in the evening after dark, if she felt sufficiently well to feel asense of security without them. 

Flora changed colour, and slightly trembled, and then, as if ashamed ofher fears, she said, --

"Go, go; I will not detain you. Surely no harm can come to me inpresence of my mother. "

"We shall not be gone longer than the time I mention to you, " saidHenry. 

"Oh, I shall be quite content. Besides, am I to be kept thus in fear allmy life? Surely, surely not. I ought, too, to learn to defend myself. "

Henry caught at the idea, as he said, --

"If fire-arms were left you, do you think you would have courage to usethem?"

"I do, Henry. "

"Then you shall have them; and let me beg of you to shoot any onewithout the least hesitation who shall come into your chamber. "

"I will, Henry. If ever human being was justified in the use of deadlyweapons, I am now. Heaven protect me from a repetition of the visit towhich I have now been once subjected. Rather, oh, much rather would Idie a hundred deaths than suffer what I have suffered. "

"Do not allow it, dear Flora, to press too heavily upon your mind indwelling upon it in conversation. I still entertain a sanguineexpectation that something may arise to afford a far less dreadfulexplanation of what has occurred than what you have put upon it. Be ofgood cheer, Flora, we shall go one hour after sunset, and return inabout two hours from the time at which we leave here, you may beassured. "

Notwithstanding this ready and courageous acquiescence of Flora in thearrangement, Henry was not without his apprehension that when the nightshould come again, her fears would return with it; but he spoke to Mr. Chillingworth upon the subject, and got that gentleman's ready consentto accompany them. 

He promised to meet them at the church porch exactly at nine o'clock, and matters were all arranged, and Henry waited with much eagerness andanxiety now for the coming night, which he hoped would dissipate one ofthe fearful deductions which his imagination had drawn from recentcircumstances. 

He gave to Flora a pair of pistols of his own, upon which he knew hecould depend, and he took good care to load them well, so that therecould be no likelihood whatever of their missing fire at a criticalmoment. 

"Now, Flora, " he said, "I have seen you use fire-arms when you were muchyounger than you are now, and therefore I need give you no instructions. If any intruder does come, and you do fire, be sure you take a good aim, and shoot low. "

"I will, Henry, I will; and you will be back in two hours?"

"Most assuredly I will. "

The day wore on, evening came, and then deepened into night. It turnedout to be a cloudy night, and therefore the moon's brilliance wasnothing near equal to what it had been on the preceding night Still, however, it had sufficient power over the vapours that frequentlycovered it for many minutes together, to produce a considerable lighteffect upon the face of nature, and the night was consequently very far, indeed, from what might be called a dark one. 

George, Henry, and Marchdale, met in one of the lower rooms of thehouse, previous to starting upon their expedition; and after satisfyingthemselves that they had with them all the tools that were necessary, inclusive of the same small, but well-tempered iron crow-bar with whichMarchdale had, on the night of the visit of the vampyre, forced open thedoor of Flora's chamber, they left the hall, and proceeded at a rapidpace towards the church. 

"And Flora does not seem much alarmed, " said Marchdale, "at being leftalone?"

"No, " replied Henry, "she has made up her mind with a strong naturalcourage which I knew was in her disposition to resist as much aspossible the depressing effects of the awful visitation she hasendured. "

"It would have driven some really mad. "

"It would, indeed; and her own reason tottered on its throne, but, thankHeaven, she has recovered. "

"And I fervently hope that, through her life, " added Marchdale, "she maynever have such another trial. "

"We will not for a moment believe that such a thing can occur twice. "

"She is one among a thousand. Most young girls would never at all haverecovered the fearful shock to the nerves. "

"Not only has she recovered, " said Henry, "but a spirit, which I amrejoiced to see, because it is one which will uphold her, of resistancenow possesses her. "

"Yes, she actually--I forgot to tell you before--but she actually askedme for arms to resist any second visitation. "

"You much surprise me. "

"Yes, I was surprised, as well as pleased, myself. "

"I would have left her one of my pistols had I been aware of her havingmade such a request. Do you know if she can use fire-arms?"

"Oh, yes; well. "

"What a pity. I have them both with me. "

"Oh, she is provided. "

"Provided?"

"Yes; I found some pistols which I used to take with me on thecontinent, and she has them both well loaded, so that if the vampyremakes his appearance, he is likely to meet with rather a warmreception. "

"Good God! was it not dangerous?"

"Not at all, I think. "

"Well, you know best, certainly, of course. I hope the vampyre may come, and that we may have the pleasure, when we return, of finding him dead. By-the-bye, I--I--. Bless me, I have forgot to get the materials forlights, which I pledged myself to do. "

"How unfortunate. "

"Walk on slowly, while I run back and get them. "

"Oh, we are too far--"

"Hilloa!" cried a man at this moment, some distance in front of them. 

"It is Mr. Chillingworth, " said Henry. 

"Hilloa, " cried the worthy doctor again. "Is that you, my friend, HenryBannerworth?"

"It is, " cried Henry. 

Mr. Chillingworth now came up to them and said, --

"I was before my time, so rather than wait at the church porch, whichwould have exposed me to observation perhaps, I thought it better towalk on, and chance meeting with you. "

"You guessed we should come this way?'

"Yes, and so it turns out, really. It is unquestionably your most directroute to the church. "

"I think I will go back, " said Mr Marchdale. 

"Back!" exclaimed the doctor; "what for?"

"I forgot the means of getting lights. We have candles, but no means oflighting them. "

"Make yourselves easy on that score, " said Mr. Chillingworth. "I amnever without some chemical matches of my own manufacture, so that asyou have the candles, that can be no bar to our going on a once. "

"That is fortunate, " said Henry. 

"Very, " added Marchdale; "for it seems a mile's hard walking for me, orat least half a mile from the hall. Let us now push on. "

They did push on, all four walking at a brisk pace. The church, althoughit belonged to the village, was not in it. On the contrary, it wassituated at the end of a long lane, which was a mile nearly from thevillage, in the direction of the hall, therefore, in going to it fromthe hall, that amount of distance was saved, although it was alwayscalled and considered the village church. 

It stood alone, with the exception of a glebe house and two cottages, that were occupied by persons who held situations about the sacrededifice, and who were supposed, being on the spot, to keep watch andward over it. 

It was an ancient building of the early English style of architecture, or rather Norman, with one of those antique, square, short towers, builtof flint stones firmly embedded in cement, which, from time, hadacquired almost the consistency of stone itself. There were numerousarched windows, partaking something of the more florid gothic style, although scarcely ornamental enough to be called such. The edifice stoodin the centre of a grave-yard, which extended over a space of about halfan acre, and altogether it was one of the prettiest and most rural oldchurches within many miles of the spot. 

Many a lover of the antique and of the picturesque, for it was both, went out of his way while travelling in the neighbourhood to look at it, and it had an extensive and well-deserved reputation as a fine specimenof its class and style of building. 

In Kent, to the present day, are some fine specimens of the old Romanstyle of church, building; and, although they are as rapidly pulled downas the abuse of modern architects, and the cupidity of speculators, andthe vanity of clergymen can possibly encourage, in older to erectflimsy, Italianised structures in their stead, yet sufficient of themremain dotted over England to interest the traveller. At Walesden thereis a church of this description which will well repay a visit. This, then, was the kind of building into which it was the intention of ourfour friends to penetrate, not on an unholy, or an unjustifiable errand, but on one which, proceeding from good and proper motives, it was highlydesirable to conduct in as secret a manner as possible. 

The moon was more densely covered by clouds than it had yet been thatevening, when they reached the little wicket-gate which led into thechurchyard, through which was a regularly used thoroughfare. 

"We have a favourable night, " remarked Henry, "for we are not so likelyto be disturbed. "

"And now, the question is, how are we to get in?" said Mr. Chillingworth, as he paused, and glanced up at the ancient building. 

"The doors, " said George, "would effectually resist us. "

"How can it be done, then?"

"The only way I can think of, " said Henry, "is to get out one of thesmall diamond-shaped panes of glass from one of the low windows, andthen we can one of us put in our hands, and undo the fastening, which isvery simple, when the window opens like a door, and it is but a stepinto the church. "

"A good way, " said Marchdale. "We will lose no time. "

They walked round the church till they came to a very low window indeed, near to an angle of the wall, where a huge abutment struck far out intothe burial-ground. 

"Will you do it, Henry?" said George. 

"Yes. I have often noticed the fastenings. Just give me a slight hoistup, and all will be right. "

George did so, and Henry with his knife easily bent back some of theleadwork which held in one of the panes of glass, and then got it outwhole. He handed it down to George, saying, --

"Take this, George. We can easily replace it when we leave, so thatthere can be no signs left of any one having been here at all. "

George took the piece of thick, dim-coloured glass, and in anothermoment Henry had succeeded in opening the window, and the mode ofingress to the old church was fair and easy before them all, had therebeen ever so many. 

"I wonder, " said Marchdale, "that a place so inefficiently protected hasnever been robbed. "

"No wonder at all, " remarked Mr. Chillingworth. "There is nothing totake that I am aware of that would repay anybody the trouble of taking. "

"Indeed!"

"Not an article. The pulpit, to be sure, is covered with faded velvet;but beyond that, and an old box, in which I believe nothing is left butsome books, I think there is no temptation. "

"And that, Heaven knows, is little enough, then. "

"Come on, " said Henry. "Be careful; there is nothing beneath the window, and the depth is about two feet. "

Thus guided, they all got fairly into the sacred edifice, and then Henryclosed the window, and fastened it on the inside as he said, --

"We have nothing to do now but to set to work opening a way into thevault, and I trust that Heaven will pardon me for thus desecrating thetomb of my ancestors, from a consideration of the object I have in viewby so doing. "

"It does seem wrong thus to tamper with the secrets of the tomb, "remarked Mr. Marchdale. 

"The secrets of a fiddlestick!" said the doctor. "What secrets has thetomb I wonder?"

"Well, but, my dear sir--"

"Nay, my dear sir, it is high time that death, which is, then, theinevitable fate of us all, should be regarded with more philosophic eyesthan it is. There are no secrets in the tomb but such as may well beendeavoured to be kept secret. "

"What do you mean?"

"There is one which very probably we shall find unpleasantly revealed. "

"Which is that?"

"The not over pleasant odour of decomposed animal remains--beyond that Iknow of nothing of a secret nature that the tomb can show us. "

"Ah, your profession hardens you to such matters. "

"And a very good thing that it does, or else, if all men were to lookupon a dead body as something almost too dreadful to look upon, and byfar too horrible to touch, surgery would lose its value, and crime, inmany instances of the most obnoxious character, would go unpunished. "

"If we have a light here, " said Henry, "we shall run the greatest chancein the world of being seen, for the church has many windows. "

"Do not have one, then, by any means, " said Mr. Chillingworth. "A matchheld low down in the pew may enable us to open the vault. "

"That will be the only plan. "

Henry led them to the pew which belonged to his family, and in the floorof which was the trap door. 

"When was it last opened?" inquired Marchdale. 

"When my father died, " said Henry; "some ten months ago now, I shouldthink. "

"The screws, then, have had ample time to fix themselves with freshrust. "

"Here is one of my chemical matches, " said Mr. Chillingworth, as hesuddenly irradiated the pew with a clear and beautiful flame, thatlasted about a minute. 

The heads of the screws were easily discernible, and the short time thatthe light lasted had enabled Henry to turn the key he had brought withhim in the lock. 

"I think that without a light now, " he said, "I can turn the screwswell. "

"Can you?"

"Yes; there are but four. "

"Try it, then. "

Henry did so, and from the screws having very large heads, and beingmade purposely, for the convenience of removal when required, with deepindentations to receive the screw-driver, he found no difficulty infeeling for the proper places, and extracting the screws without anymore light than was afforded to him from the general whitish aspect ofthe heavens. 

"Now, Mr. Chillingworth, " he said "another of your matches, if youplease. I have all the screws so loose that I can pick them up with myfingers. "

"Here, " said the doctor. 

In another moment the pew was as light as day, and Henry succeeded intaking out the few screws, which he placed in his pocket for theirgreater security, since, of course, the intention was to replaceeverything exactly as it was found, in order that not the least surmiseshould arise in the mind of any person that the vault had been opened, and visited for any purpose whatever, secretly or otherwise. "

"Let us descend, " said Henry. "There is no further obstacle, my friends. Let us descend. "

"If any one, " remarked George, in a whisper, as they slowly descendedthe stairs which conducted into the vault--"if any one had told me thatI should be descending into a vault for the purpose of ascertaining if adead body, which had been nearly a century there, was removed or not, and had become a vampyre, I should have denounced the idea as one of themost absurd that ever entered the brain of a human being. "

"We are the very slaves of circumstances, " said Marchdale, "and we neverknow what we may do, or what we may not. What appears to us soimprobable as to border even upon the impossible at one time, is atanother the only course of action which appears feasibly open to us toattempt to pursue. "

They had now reached the vault, the floor of which was composed of flatred tiles, laid in tolerable order the one beside the other. As Henryhad stated, the vault was by no means of large extent. Indeed, severalof the apartments for the living, at the hall, were much larger than wasthat one destined for the dead. 

The atmosphere was dump and noisome, but not by any means so bad asmight have been expected, considering the number of months which hadelapsed since last the vault was opened to receive one of its ghastlyand still visitants. 

"Now for one of your lights. Mr. Chillingworth. You say you have thecandles, I think, Marchdale, although you forgot the matches. "

"I have. They are here. "

Marchdale took from his pocket a parcel which contained several waxcandles, and when it was opened, a smaller packet fell to the ground. 

"Why, these are instantaneous matches, " said Mr. Chillingworth, as helifted the small packet up. 

"They are; and what a fruitless journey I should have had back to thehall, " said Mr. Marchdale, "if you had not been so well provided as youare with the means of getting a light. These matches, which I thought Ihad not with me, have been, in the hurry of departure, enclosed, yousee, with the candles. Truly, I should have hunted for them at home invain. "

Mr. Chillingworth lit the wax candle which was now handed to him byMarchdale, and in another moment the vault from one end of it to theother was quite clearly discernible. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE COFFIN. --THE ABSENCE OF THE DEAD. --THE MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCE, ANDTHE CONSTERNATION OF GEORGE. 

[Illustration]

They were all silent for a few moments as they looked around them withnatural feelings of curiosity. Two of that party had of course neverbeen in that vault at all, and the brothers, although they had descendedinto it upon the occasion, nearly a year before, of their father beingplaced in it, still looked upon it with almost as curious eyes as theywho now had their first sight of it. 

If a man be at all of a thoughtful or imaginative cast of mind, somecurious sensations are sure to come over him, upon standing in such aplace, where he knows around him lie, in the calmness of death, those inwhose veins have flowed kindred blood to him--who bore the same name, and who preceded him in the brief drama of his existence, influencinghis destiny and his position in life probably largely by their actionscompounded of their virtues and their vices. 

Henry Bannerworth and his brother George were just the kind of personsto feel strongly such sensations. Both were reflective, imaginative, educated young men, and, as the light from the wax candle flashed upontheir faces, it was evident how deeply they felt the situation in whichthey were placed. 

Mr. Chillingworth and Marchdale were silent. They both knew what waspassing in the minds of the brothers, and they had too much delicacy tointerrupt a train of thought which, although from having no affinitywith the dead who lay around, they could not share in, yet theyrespected. Henry at length, with a sudden start, seemed to recoverhimself from his reverie. 

"This is a time for action, George, " he said, "and not for romanticthought. Let us proceed. "

"Yes, yes, " said George, and he advanced a step towards the centre ofthe vault. 

"Can you find out among all these coffins, for there seem to be nearlytwenty, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "which is the one we seek?"

"I think we may, " replied Henry. "Some of the earlier coffins of ourrace, I know, were made of marble, and others of metal, both of whichmaterials, I expect, would withstand the encroaches of time for ahundred years, at least. "

"Let us examine, " said George. 

There were shelves or niches built into the walls all round, on whichthe coffins were placed, so that there could not be much difficulty in aminute examination of them all, the one after the other. 

When, however, they came to look, they found that "decay's offensivefingers" had been more busy than they could have imagined, and thatwhatever they touched of the earlier coffins crumbled into dust beforetheir very fingers. 

In some cases the inscriptions were quite illegible, and, in others, theplates that had borne them had fallen on to the floor of the vault, sothat it was impossible to say to which coffin they belonged. 

Of course, the more recent and fresh-looking coffins they did notexamine, because they could not have anything to do with the object ofthat melancholy visit. 

"We shall arrive at no conclusion, " said George. "All seems to haverotted away among those coffins where we might expect to find the onebelonging to Marmaduke Bannerworth, our ancestor. "

"Here is a coffin plate, " said Marchdale, taking one from the floor. 

He handed it to Mr. Chillingworth, who, upon an inspection of it, closeto the light, exclaimed, --

"It must have belonged to the coffin you seek. "

"What says it?"

"Ye mortale remains of Marmaduke Bannerworth, Yeoman. God reste hissoule. A. D. 1540. "

"It is the plate belonging to his coffin, " said Henry, "and now oursearch is fruitless. "

"It is so, indeed, " exclaimed George, "for how can we tell to which ofthe coffins that have lost the plates this one really belongs?"

"I should not be so hopeless, " said Marchdale. "I have, from time totime, in the pursuit of antiquarian lore, which I was once fond of, entered many vaults, and I have always observed that an inner coffin ofmetal was sound and good, while the outer one of wood had rotted away, and yielded at once to the touch of the first hand that was laid uponit. "

"But, admitting that to be the case, " said Henry, "how does that assistus in the identification of a coffin?"

"I have always, in my experience, found the name and rank of thedeceased engraved upon the lid of the inner coffin, as well as being setforth in a much more perishable manner on the plate which was secured tothe outer one. "

"He is right, " said Mr. Chillingworth. "I wonder we never thought ofthat. If your ancestor was buried in a leaden coffin, there will be nodifficulty in finding which it is. "

Henry seized the light, and proceeding to one of the coffins, whichseemed to be a mass of decay, he pulled away some of the rotted woodwork, and then suddenly exclaimed, --

"You are quite right. Here is a firm strong leaden coffin within, which, although quite black, does not otherwise appear to have suffered. "

"What is the inscription on that?" said George. 

With difficulty the name on the lid was deciphered, but it was found notto be the coffin of him whom they sought. 

"We can make short work of this, " said Marchdale, "by only examiningthose leaden coffins which have lost the plates from off their outercases. There do not appear to be many in such a state. "

He then, with another light, which he lighted from the one that Henrynow carried, commenced actively assisting in the search, which wascarried on silently for more than ten minutes. 

Suddenly Mr. Marchdale cried, in a tone of excitement, --

"I have found it. It is here. "

They all immediately surrounded the spot where he was, and then hepointed to the lid of a coffin, which he had been rubbing with hishandkerchief, in order to make the inscription more legible, and said, --

"See. It is here. "

By the combined light of the candles they saw the words, --

"Marmaduke Bannerworth, Yeoman, 1640. "

"Yes, there can be no mistake here, " said Henry. "This is the coffin, and it shall be opened. "

"I have the iron crowbar here, " said Marchdale. "It is an old friend ofmine, and I am accustomed to the use of it. Shall I open the coffin?"

"Do so--do so, " said Henry. 

They stood around in silence, while Mr. Marchdale, with much care, proceeded to open the coffin, which seemed of great thickness, and wasof solid lead. 

It was probably the partial rotting of the metal, in consequence of thedamps of that place, that made it easier to open the coffin than itotherwise would have been, but certain it was that the top came awayremarkably easily. Indeed, so easily did it come off, that anothersupposition might have been hazarded, namely, that it had never at allbeen effectually fastened. 

[Illustration]

The few moments that elapsed were ones of very great suspense to everyone there present; and it would, indeed, be quite sure to assert, thatall the world was for the time forgotten in the absorbing interest whichappertained to the affair which was in progress. 

The candles were now both held by Mr. Chillingworth, and they were soheld as to cast a full and clear light upon the coffin. Now the lid slidoff, and Henry eagerly gazed into the interior. 

There lay something certainly there, and an audible "Thank God!" escapedhis lips. 

"The body is there!" exclaimed George. 

"All right, " said Marchdale, "here it is. There is something, and whatelse can it be?"

"Hold the lights, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "hold the lights, some ofyou; let us be quite certain. "

George took the lights, and Mr. Chillingworth, without any hesitation, dipped his hands at once into the coffin, and took up some fragments ofrags which were there. They were so rotten, that they fell to pieces inhis grasp, like so many pieces of tinder. 

There was a death-like pause for some few moments, and then Mr. Chillingworth said, in a low voice, --

"There is not the least vestige of a dead body here. "

Henry gave a deep groan, as he said, --

"Mr. Chillingworth, can you take upon yourself to say that no corpse hasundergone the process of decomposition in this coffin?"

"To answer your question exactly, as probably in your hurry you haveworded it, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "I cannot take upon myself to sayany such thing; but this I can say, namely, that in this coffin thereare no animal remains, and that it is quite impossible that any corpseenclosed here could, in any lapse of time, have so utterly and entirelydisappeared. "

"I am answered, " said Henry. 

"Good God!" exclaimed George, "and has this but added another damningproof, to those we have already on our minds, of one of the mustdreadful superstitions that ever the mind of man conceived?"

"It would seem so, " said Marchdale, sadly. 

"Oh, that I were dead! This is terrible. God of heaven, why are thesethings? Oh, if I were but dead, and so spared the torture of supposingsuch things possible. "

"Think again, Mr. Chillingworth; I pray you think again, " criedMarchdale. 

"If I were to think for the remainder of my existence, " he replied, "Icould come to no other conclusion. It is not a matter of opinion; it isa matter of fact. "

"You are positive, then, " said Henry, "that the dead body of MarmadukeBannerworth is not rested here?"

"I am positive. Look for yourselves. The lead is but slightlydiscoloured; it looks tolerably clean and fresh; there is not a vestigeof putrefaction--no bones, no dust even. "

They did all look for themselves, and the most casual glance wassufficient to satisfy the most sceptical. 

"All is over, " said Henry; "let us now leave this place; and all I cannow ask of you, my friends, is to lock this dreadful secret deep in yourown hearts. "

"It shall never pass my lips, " said Marchdale. 

"Nor mine, you may depend, " said the doctor. "I was much in hopes thatthis night's work would have had the effect of dissipating, instead ofadding to, the gloomy fancies that now possess you. "

"Good heavens!" cried George, "can you call them fancies, Mr. Chillingworth?"

"I do, indeed. "

"Have you yet a doubt?"

"My young friend, I told you from the first, that I would not believe inyour vampyre; and I tell you now, that if one was to come and lay holdof me by the throat, as long as I could at all gasp for breath I wouldtell him he was a d----d impostor. "

"This is carrying incredulity to the verge of obstinacy. "

"Far beyond it, if you please. "

"You will not be convinced?" said Marchdale. 

"I most decidedly, on this point, will not. "

"Then you are one who would doubt a miracle, if you saw it with your owneyes. "

"I would, because I do not believe in miracles. I should endeavour tofind some rational and some scientific means of accounting for thephenomenon, and that's the very reason why we have no miraclesnow-a-days, between you and I, and no prophets and saints, and all thatsort of thing. "

"I would rather avoid such observations in such a place as this, " saidMarchdale. 

"Nay, do not be the moral coward, " cried Mr. Chillingworth, "to makeyour opinions, or the expression of them, dependent upon any certainlocality. "

"I know not what to think, " said Henry; "I am bewildered quite. Let usnow come away. "

Mr. Marchdale replaced the lid of the coffin, and then the little partymoved towards the staircase. Henry turned before he ascended, andglanced back into the vault. 

"Oh, " he said, "if I could but think there had been some mistake, someerror of judgment, on which the mind could rest for hope. "

"I deeply regret, " said Marchdale, "that I so strenuously advised thisexpedition. I did hope that from it would have resulted much good. "

"And you had every reason so to hope, " said Chillingworth. "I advised itlikewise, and I tell you that its result perfectly astonishes me, although I will not allow myself to embrace at once all the conclusionsto which it would seem to lead me. "

"I am satisfied, " said Henry; "I know you both advised me for the best. The curse of Heaven seems now to have fallen upon me and my house. "

"Oh, nonsense!" said Chillingworth. "What for?"

"Alas! I know not. "

"Then you may depend that Heaven would never act so oddly. In the firstplace, Heaven don't curse anybody; and, in the second, it is too just toinflict pain where pain is not amply deserved. "

They ascended the gloomy staircase of the vault. The countenances ofboth George and Henry were very much saddened, and it was quite evidentthat their thoughts were by far too busy to enable them to enter intoany conversation. They did not, and particularly George, seem to hearall that was said to them. Their intellects seemed almost stunned by theunexpected circumstance of the disappearance of the body of theirancestor. 

All along they had, although almost unknown to themselves, felt a sortof conviction that they must find some remains of Marmaduke Bannerworth, which would render the supposition, even in the most superstitiousminds, that he was the vampyre, a thing totally and physicallyimpossible. 

But now the whole question assumed a far more bewildering shape. Thebody was not in its coffin--it had not there quietly slept the longsleep of death common to humanity. Where was it then? What had become ofit? Where, how, and under what circumstances had it been removed? Had ititself burst the bands that held it, and hideously stalked forth intothe world again to make one of its seeming inhabitants, and kept up fora hundred years a dreadful existence by such adventures as it hadconsummated at the hall, where, in the course of ordinary human life, ithad once lived?

All these were questions which irresistibly pressed themselves upon theconsideration of Henry and his brother. They were awful questions. 

And yet, take any sober, sane, thinking, educated man, and show him allthat they had seen, subject him to all to which they had been subjected, and say if human reason, and all the arguments that the subtlest braincould back it with, would be able to hold out against such a vastaccumulation of horrible evidences, and say--"I don't believe it. "

Mr. Chillingworth's was the only plan. He would not argue the question. He said at once, --

"I will not believe this thing--upon this point I will yield to noevidence whatever. "

That was the only way of disposing of such a question; but there are notmany who could so dispose of it, and not one so much interested in it aswere the brothers Bannerworth, who could at all hope to get into such astate of mind. 

The boards were laid carefully down again, and the screws replaced. Henry found himself unequal to the task, so it was done by Marchdale, who took pains to replace everything in the same state in which they hadfound it, even to the laying even the matting at the bottom of the pew. 

Then they extinguished the light, and, with heavy hearts, they allwalked towards the window, to leave the sacred edifice by the same meansthey had entered it. 

"Shall we replace the pane of glass?" said Marchdale. 

"Oh, it matters not--it matters not, " said Henry, listlessly; "nothingmatters now. I care not what becomes of me--I am getting weary of a lifewhich now must be one of misery and dread. "

"You must not allow yourself to fall into such a state of mind as this, "said the doctor, "or you will become a patient of mine very quickly. "

"I cannot help it. "

"Well, but be a man. If there are serious evils affecting you, fight outagainst them the best way you can. "

"I cannot. "

"Come, now, listen to me. We need not, I think, trouble ourselves aboutthe pane of glass, so come along. "

He took the arm of Henry and walked on with him a little in advance ofthe others. 

"Henry, " he said, "the best way, you may depend, of meeting evils, bethey great or small, is to get up an obstinate feeling of defianceagainst them. Now, when anything occurs which is uncomfortable to me, Iendeavour to convince myself, and I have no great difficulty in doingso, that I am a decidedly injured man. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes; I get very angry, and that gets up a kind of obstinacy, whichmakes me not feel half so much mental misery as would be my portion, ifI were to succumb to the evil, and commence whining over it, as manypeople do, under the pretence of being resigned. "

"But this family affliction of mine transcends anything that anybodyelse ever endured. "

"I don't know that; but it is a view of the subject which, if I wereyou, would only make me more obstinate. "

"What can I do?"

"In the first place, I would say to myself, 'There may or there may notbe supernatural beings, who, from some physical derangement of theordinary nature of things, make themselves obnoxious to living people;if there are, d--n them! There may be vampyres; and if there are, I defythem. ' Let the imagination paint its very worst terrors; let fear dowhat it will and what it can in peopling the mind with horrors. Shrinkfrom nothing, and even then I would defy them all. "

"Is not that like defying Heaven?"

"Most certainly not; for in all we say and in all we do we act from theimpulses of that mind which is given to us by Heaven itself. If Heavencreates an intellect and a mind of a certain order, Heaven will notquarrel that it does the work which it was adapted to do. "

"I know these are your opinions. I have heard you mention them before. "

"They are the opinions of every rational person. Henry Bannerworth, because they will stand the test of reason; and what I urge upon you is, not to allow yourself to be mentally prostrated, even if a vampyre haspaid a visit to your house. Defy him, say I--fight him. Self-preservation is a great law of nature, implanted in all our hearts;do you summon it to your aid. "

"I will endeavour to think as you would have me. I thought more thanonce of summoning religion to my aid. "

"Well, that is religion. "

"Indeed!"

"I consider so, and the most rational religion of all. All that we readabout religion that does not seem expressly to agree with it, you mayconsider as an allegory. "

"But, Mr. Chillingworth, I cannot and will not renounce the sublimetruths of Scripture. They may be incomprehensible; they may beinconsistent; and some of them may look ridiculous; but still they aresacred and sublime, and I will not renounce them although my reason maynot accord with them, because they are the laws of Heaven. "

No wonder this powerful argument silenced Mr. Chillingworth, who was oneof those characters in society who hold most dreadful opinions, and whowould destroy religious beliefs, and all the different sects in theworld, if they could, and endeavour to introduce instead some horriblesystem of human reason and profound philosophy. 

But how soon the religious man silences his opponent; and let it not besupposed that, because his opponent says no more upon the subject, hedoes so because he is disgusted with the stupidity of the other; no, itis because he is completely beaten, and has nothing more to say. 

The distance now between the church and the hall was nearly traversed, and Mr. Chillingworth, who was a very good man, notwithstanding hisdisbelief in certain things of course paved the way for him to hell, took a kind leave of Mr. Marchdale and the brothers, promising to callon the following morning and see Flora. 

Henry and George then, in earnest conversation with Marchdale, proceededhomewards. It was evident that the scene in the vault had made a deepand saddening impression upon them, and one which was not likely easilyto be eradicated. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE OCCURRENCES OF THE NIGHT AT THE HALL. --THE SECOND APPEARANCE OF THEVAMPYRE, AND THE PISTOL-SHOT. 

[Illustration]

Despite the full and free consent which Flora had given to her brothersto entrust her solely to the care of her mother and her own courage atthe hall, she felt greater fear creep over her after they were gone thanshe chose to acknowledge. 

A sort of presentiment appeared to come over her that some evil wasabout to occur, and more than once she caught herself almost in the actof saying, --

"I wish they had not gone. "

Mrs. Bannerworth, too, could not be supposed to be entirely destitute ofuncomfortable feelings, when she came to consider how poor a guard shewas over her beautiful child, and how much terror might even deprive ofthe little power she had, should the dreadful visitor again make hisappearance. 

"But it is but for two hours, " thought Flora, "and two hours will soonpass away. "

There was, too, another feeling which gave her some degree ofconfidence, although it arose from a bad source, inasmuch as it was onewhich showed powerfully how much her mind was dwelling on theparticulars of the horrible belief in the class of supernatural beings, one of whom she believed had visited her. 

That consideration was this. The two hours of absence from the hall ofits male inhabitants, would be from nine o'clock until eleven, and thosewere not the two hours during which she felt that she would be mosttimid on account of the vampyre. 

"It was after midnight before, " she thought, "when it came, and perhapsit may not be able to come earlier. It may not have the power, untilthat time, to make its hideous visits, and, therefore, I will believemyself safe. "

She had made up her mind not to go to bed until the return of herbrothers, and she and her mother sat in a small room that was used as abreakfast-room, and which had a latticed window that opened on to thelawn. 

This window had in the inside strong oaken shutters, which had beenfastened as securely as their construction would admit of some timebefore the departure of the brothers and Mr. Marchdale on thatmelancholy expedition, the object of which, if it had been known to her, would have added so much to the terrors of poor Flora. 

It was not even guessed at, however remotely, so that she had not theadditional affliction of thinking, that while she was sitting there, aprey to all sorts of imaginative terrors, they were perhaps gatheringfresh evidence, as, indeed, they were, of the dreadful reality of theappearance which, but for the collateral circumstances attendant uponits coming and its going, she would fain have persuaded herself was butthe vision of a dream. 

It was before nine that the brothers started, but in her own mind Floragave them to eleven, and when she heard ten o'clock sound from a clockwhich stood in the hall, she felt pleased to think that in another hourthey would surely be at home. 

"My dear, " said her mother, "you look more like yourself, now. "

"Do, I, mother?"

"Yes, you are well again. "

"Ah, if I could forget--"

"Time, my dear Flora, will enable you to do so, and all the fear of whatmade you so unwell will pass away. You will soon forget it all. "

"I will hope to do so. "

"Be assured that, some day or another, something will occur, as Henrysays, to explain all that has happened, in some way consistent withreason and the ordinary nature of things, my dear Flora. "

"Oh, I will cling to such a belief; I will get Henry, upon whosejudgment I know I can rely, to tell me so, and each time that I hearsuch words from his lips, I will contrive to dismiss some portion of theterror which now, I cannot but confess, clings to my heart. "

Flora laid her hand upon her mother's arm, and in a low, anxious tone ofvoice, said, --"Listen, mother. "

Mrs. Bannerworth turned pale, as she said, --"Listen to what, dear?"

"Within these last ten minutes, " said Flora, "I have thought three orfour times that I heard a slight noise without. Nay, mother, do nottremble--it may be only fancy. "

[Illustration]

Flora herself trembled, and was of a death-like paleness; once or twiceshe passed her hand across her brow, and altogether she presented apicture of much mental suffering. 

They now conversed in anxious whispers, and almost all they saidconsisted in anxious wishes for the return of the brothers and Mr. Marchdale. 

"You will be happier and more assured, my dear, with some company, " saidMrs. Bannerworth. "Shall I ring for the servants, and let them remain inthe room with us, until they who are our best safeguards next to Heavenreturn?"

"Hush--hush--hush, mother!"

"What do you hear?"

"I thought--I heard a faint sound. "

"I heard nothing, dear. "

"Listen again, mother. Surely I could not be deceived so often. I havenow, at least, six times heard a sound as if some one was outside by thewindows. "

"No, no, my darling, do not think; your imagination is active and in astate of excitement. "

"It is, and yet--"

"Believe me, it deceives you. "

"I hope to Heaven it does!"

There was a pause of some minutes' duration, and then Mrs. Bannerworthagain urged slightly the calling of some of the servants, for shethought that their presence might have the effect of giving a differentdirection to her child's thoughts; but Flora saw her place her hand uponthe bell, and she said, --

"No, mother, no--not yet, not yet. Perhaps I am deceived. "

Mrs. Bannerworth upon this sat down, but no sooner had she done so thanshe heartily regretted she had not rung the bell, for, before, anotherword could be spoken, there came too perceptibly upon their ears forthere to be any mistake at all about it, a strange scratching noise uponthe window outside. 

A faint cry came from Flora's lips, as she exclaimed, in a voice ofgreat agony, --

"Oh, God!--oh, God! It has come again!"

Mrs. Bannerworth became faint, and unable to move or speak at all; shecould only sit like one paralysed, and unable to do more than listen toand see what was going on. 

The scratching noise continued for a few seconds, and then altogetherceased. Perhaps, under ordinary circumstances, such a sound outside thewindow would have scarcely afforded food for comment at all, or, if ithad, it would have been attributed to some natural effect, or to theexertions of some bird or animal to obtain admittance to the house. 

But there had occurred now enough in that family to make any littlesound of wonderful importance, and these things which before would havepassed completely unheeded, at all events without creating much alarm, were now invested with a fearful interest. 

When the scratching noise ceased, Flora spoke in a low, anxious whisper, as she said, --

"Mother, you heard it then?"

Mrs. Bannerworth tried to speak, but she could not; and then suddenly, with a loud clash, the bar, which on the inside appeared to fasten theshutters strongly, fell as if by some invisible agency, and the shuttersnow, but for the intervention of the window, could be easily pushed openfrom without. 

Mrs. Bannerworth covered her face with her hands, and, after rocking toand fro for a moment, she fell off her chair, having fainted with theexcess of terror that came over her. 

For about the space of time in which a fast speaker could count twelve, Flora thought her reason was leaving her, but it did not. She foundherself recovering; and there she sat, with her eyes fixed upon thewindow, looking more like some exquisitely-chiselled statue of despairthan a being of flesh and blood, expecting each moment to have its eyesblasted by some horrible appearance, such as might be supposed to driveher to madness. 

And now again came the strange knocking or scratching against the glassof the window. 

This continued for some minutes, during which it appeared likewise toFlora that some confusion was going on at another part of the house, forshe fancied she heard voices and the banging of doors. 

It seemed to her as if she must have sat looking at the shutters of thatwindow a long time before she saw them shake, and then one wide hingedportion of them slowly opened. 

Once again horror appeared to be on the point of producing madness inher brain, and then, as before, a feeling of calmness rapidly ensued. 

She was able to see plainly that something was by the window, but whatit was she could not plainly discern, in consequence of the lights shehad in the room. A few moments, however, sufficed to settle thatmystery, for the window was opened and a figure stood before her. 

One glance, one terrified glance, in which her whole soul wasconcentrated, sufficed to shew her who and what the figure was. Therewas the tall, gaunt form--there was the faded ancient apparel--thelustrous metallic-looking eyes--its half-opened month, exhibiting thetusk-like teeth! It was--yes, it was--_the vampyre!_

It stood for a moment gazing at her, and then in the hideous way it hadattempted before to speak, it apparently endeavoured to utter some wordswhich it could not make articulate to human ears. The pistols lay beforeFlora. Mechanically she raised one, and pointed it at the figure. Itadvanced a step, and then she pulled the trigger. 

A stunning report followed. There was a loud cry of pain, and thevampyre fled. The smoke and the confusion that was incidental to thespot prevented her from seeing if the figure walked or ran away. Shethought she heard a crashing sound among the plants outside the window, as if it had fallen, but she did not feel quite sure. 

It was no effort of any reflection, but a purely mechanical movement, that made her raise the other pistol, and discharge that likewise in thedirection the vampyre had taken. Then casting the weapon away, she rose, and made a frantic rush from the room. She opened the door, and wasdashing out, when she found herself caught in the circling arms of someone who either had been there waiting, or who had just at that momentgot there. 

The thought that it was the vampyre, who by some mysterious means, hadgot there, and was about to make her his prey, now overcame hercompletely, and she sunk into a state of utter insensibility on themoment. 

CHAPTER X. 

THE RETURN FROM THE VAULT. --THE ALARM, AND THE SEARCH AROUND THE HALL. 

[Illustration]

It so happened that George and Henry Bannerworth, along with Mr. Marchdale, had just reached the gate which conducted into the garden ofthe mansion when they all were alarmed by the report of a pistol. Amidthe stillness of the night, it came upon them with so sudden a shock, that they involuntarily paused, and there came from the lips of each anexpression of alarm. 

"Good heavens!" cried George, "can that be Flora firing at anyintruder?"

"It must be, " cried Henry; "she has in her possession the only weaponsin the house. "

Mr. Marchdale turned very pale, and trembled slightly, but he did notspeak. 

"On, on, " cried Henry; "for God's sake, let us hasten on. "

As he spoke, he cleared the gate at a bound, and at a terrific pace hemade towards the house, passing over beds, and plantations, and flowersheedlessly, so that he went the most direct way to it. 

Before, however, it was possible for any human speed to accomplish evenhalf of the distance, the report of the other shot came upon his ears, and he even fancied he heard the bullet whistle past his head intolerably close proximity. This supposition gave him a clue to thedirection at all events from whence the shots proceeded, otherwise heknew not from which window they were fired, because it had not occurredto him, previous to leaving home, to inquire in which room Flora and hismother were likely to be seated waiting his return. 

He was right as regarded the bullet. It was that winged messenger ofdeath which had passed his head in such very dangerous proximity, andconsequently he made with tolerable accuracy towards the open windowfrom whence the shots had been fired. 

The night was not near so dark as it had been, although even yet it wasvery far from being a light one, and he was soon enabled to see thatthere was a room, the window of which was wide open, and lights burningon the table within. He made towards it in a moment, and entered it. Tohis astonishment, the first objects he beheld were Flora and a stranger, who was now supporting her in his arms. To grapple him by the throat wasthe work of a moment, but the stranger cried aloud in a voice whichsounded familiar to Harry, --

"Good God, are you all mad?"

Henry relaxed his hold, and looked in his face. 

"Gracious heavens, it is Mr. Holland!" he said. 

"Yes; did you not know me?"

Henry was bewildered. He staggered to a seat, and, in doing so, he sawhis mother, stretched apparently lifeless upon the floor. To raise herwas the work of a moment, and then Marchdale and George, who hadfollowed him as fast as they could, appeared at the open window. 

Such a strange scene as that small room now exhibited had never beenequalled in Bannerworth Hall. There was young Mr. Holland, of whommention has already been made, as the affianced lover of Flora, supporting her fainting form. There was Henry doing equal service to hismother; and on the floor lay the two pistols, and one of the candleswhich had been upset in the confusion; while the terrified attitudes ofGeorge and Mr. Marchdale at the window completed the strange-lookingpicture. 

"What is this--oh! what has happened?" cried George. 

"I know not--I know not, " said Henry. "Some one summon the servants; Iam nearly mad. "

Mr. Marchdale at once rung the bell, for George looked so faint and illas to be incapable of doing so; and he rung it so loudly and soeffectually, that the two servants who had been employed suddenly uponthe others leaving came with much speed to know what was the matter. 

"See to your mistress, " said Henry. "She is dead, or has fainted. ForGod's sake, let who can give me some account of what has caused all thisconfusion here. "

"Are you aware, Henry, " said Marchdale, "that a stranger is present inthe room?"

He pointed to Mr. Holland as he spoke, who, before Henry could reply, said, --

"Sir, I may be a stranger to you, as you are to me, and yet no strangerto those whose home this is. "

"No, no, " said Henry, "you are no stronger to us, Mr. Holland, but arethrice welcome--none can be more welcome. Mr. Marchdale, this is MrHolland, of whom you have heard me speak. "

"I am proud to know you, sir, " said Marchdale. 

"Sir, I thank you, " replied Holland, coldly. 

It will so happen; but, at first sight, it appeared as if those twopersons had some sort of antagonistic feeling towards each other, whichthreatened to prevent effectually their ever becoming intimate friends. 

The appeal of Henry to the servants to know if they could tell him whathad occurred was answered in the negative. All they knew was that theyhad heard two shots fired, and that, since then, they had remained wherethey were, in a great fright, until the bell was rung violently. Thiswas no news at all and, therefore, the only chance was, to waitpatiently for the recovery of the mother, or of Flora, from one or theother of whom surely some information could be at once then procured. 

Mrs. Bannerworth was removed to her own room, and so would Flora havebeen; but Mr. Holland, who was supporting her in his arms, said, --

"I think the air from the open window is recovering her, and it islikely to do so. Oh, do not now take her from me, after so long anabsence. Flora, Flora, look up; do you not know me? You have not yetgiven me one look of acknowledgment. Flora, dear Flora!"

The sound of his voice seemed to act as the most potent of charms inrestoring her to consciousness; it broke through the death-like trancein which she lay, and, opening her beautiful eyes, she fixed them uponhis face, saying, --

"Yes, yes; it is Charles--it is Charles. "

She burst into a hysterical flood of tears, and clung to him like someterrified child to its only friend in the whole wide world. 

"Oh, my dear friends, " cried Charles Holland, "do not deceive me; hasFlora been ill?"

"We have all been ill, " said George. 

"All ill?"

"Ay, and nearly mad, " exclaimed Harry. 

Holland looked from one to the other in surprise, as well he might, norwas that surprise at all lessened when Flora made an effort to extricateherself from his embrace, as she exclaimed, --

"You must leave me--you must leave me, Charles, for ever! Oh! never, never look upon my face again!"

"I--I am bewildered, " said Charles. 

"Leave me, now, " continued Flora; "think me unworthy; think what youwill, Charles, but I cannot, I dare not, now be yours. "

"Is this a dream?"

"Oh, would it were. Charles, if we had never met, you would behappier--I could not be more wretched. "

"Flora, Flora, do you say these words of so great cruelty to try mylove?"

"No, as Heaven is my judge, I do not. "

"Gracious Heaven, then, what do they mean?"

Flora shuddered, and Henry, coming up to her, took her hand in histenderly, as he said, --

"Has it been again?"

"It has. "

"You shot it?"

"I fired full upon it, Henry, but it fled. "

"It did--fly?"

"It did, Henry, but it will come again--it will be sure to come again. "

"You--you hit it with the bullet?" interposed Mr. Marchdale. "Perhapsyou killed it?"

"I think I must have hit it, unless I am mad. "

Charles Holland looked from one to the other with such a look of intensesurprise, that George remarked it, and said at once to him, --

"Mr. Holland, a full explanation is due to you, and you shall have it. "

"You seem the only rational person here, " said Charles. "Pray what is itthat everybody calls '_it_?'"

"Hush--hush!" said Henry; "you shall hear soon, but not at present. "

"Hear me, Charles, " said Flora. "From this moment mind, I do release youfrom every vow, from every promise made to me of constancy and love; andif you are wise, Charles, and will be advised, you will now this momentleave this house never to return to it. "

"No, " said Charles--"no; by Heaven I love you, Flora! I have come to sayagain all that in another clime I said with joy to you. When I forgetyou, let what trouble may oppress you, may God forget me, and my ownright hand forget to do me honest service. "

[Illustration]

"Oh! no more--no more!" sobbed Flora. 

"Yes, much more, if you will tell me of words which shall be strongerthan others in which to paint my love, my faith, and my constancy. "

"Be prudent, " said Henry. "Say no more. "

"Nay, upon such a theme I could speak for ever. You may cast me off, Flora; but until you tell me you love another, I am yours till thedeath, and then with a sanguine hope at my heart that we shall meetagain, never, dearest, to part. "

Flora sobbed bitterly. 

"Oh!" she said, "this is the unkindest blow of all--this is worse thanall. "

"Unkind!" echoed Holland. 

"Heed her not, " said Henry; "she means not you. "

"Oh, no--no!" she cried. "Farewell, Charles--dear Charles. "

"Oh, say that word again!" he exclaimed, with animation. "It is thefirst time such music has met my ears. "

"It must be the last. "

"No, no--oh, no. "

"For your own sake I shall be able now, Charles, to show you that Ireally loved you. "

"Not by casting me from you?"

"Yes, even so. That will be the way to show you that I love you. "

She held up her hands wildly, as she added, in an excited voice, --

"The curse of destiny is upon me! I am singled out as one lost andaccursed. Oh, horror--horror! would that I were dead!"

Charles staggered back a pace or two until he came to the table, atwhich he clutched for support. He turned very pale as he said, in afaint voice, --

"Is--is she mad, or am I?"

"Tell him I am mad, Henry, " cried Flora. "Do not, oh, do not make hislonely thoughts terrible with more than that. Tell him I am mad. "

"Come with me, " whispered Henry to Holland. "I pray you come with me atonce, and you shall know all. "

"I--will. "

"George, stay with Flora for a time. Come, come, Mr. Holland, you ought, and you shall know all; then you can come to a judgment for yourself. This way, sir. You cannot, in the wildest freak of your imagination, guess that which I have now to tell you. "

Never was mortal man so utterly bewildered by the events of the lasthour of his existence as was now Charles Holland, and truly he mightwell be so. He had arrived in England, and made what speed he could tothe house of a family whom he admired for their intelligence, their highculture, and in one member of which his whole thoughts of domestichappiness in this world were centered, and he found nothing butconfusion, incoherence, mystery, and the wildest dismay. 

Well might he doubt if he were sleeping or waking--well might he ask ifhe or they were mad. 

And now, as, after a long, lingering look of affection upon the pale, suffering face of Flora, he followed Henry from the room, his thoughtswere busy in fancying a thousand vague and wild imaginations withrespect to the communication which was promised to be made to him. 

But, as Henry had truly said to him, not in the wildest freak of hisimagination could he conceive of any thing near the terrible strangenessand horror of that which he had to tell him, and consequently he foundhimself closeted with Henry in a small private room, removed from thedomestic part of the hall, to the full in as bewildered a state as hehad been from the first. 

CHAPTER XI. 

THE COMMUNICATIONS TO THE LOVER. --THE HEART'S DESPAIR. 

[Illustration]

Consternation is sympathetic, and any one who had looked upon thefeatures of Charles Holland, now that he was seated with HenryBannerworth, in expectation of a communication which his fears told himwas to blast all his dearest and most fondly cherished hopes for ever, would scarce have recognised in him the same young man who, one shorthour before, had knocked so loudly, and so full of joyful hope andexpectation, at the door of the hall. 

But so it was. He knew Henry Bannerworth too well to suppose that anyunreal cause could blanch his cheek. He knew Flora too well to imaginefor one moment that caprice had dictated the, to him, fearful words ofdismissal she had uttered to him. 

Happier would it at that time have been for Charles Holland had sheacted capriciously towards him, and convinced him that his true heart'sdevotion had been cast at the feet of one unworthy of so really noble agift. Pride would then have enabled him, no doubt, successfully toresist the blow. A feeling of honest and proper indignation at havinghis feelings trifled with, would, no doubt, have sustained him, but, alas! the case seemed widely different. 

True, she implored him to think of her no more--no longer to cherish inhis breast the fond dream of affection which had been its guest so long;but the manner in which she did so brought along with it an irresistibleconviction, that she was making a noble sacrifice of her own feelingsfor him, from some cause which was involved in the profoundest mystery. 

But now he was to hear all. Henry had promised to tell him, and as helooked into his pale, but handsomely intellectual face, he half dreadedthe disclosure he yet panted to hear. 

"Tell me all, Henry--tell me all, " he said. "Upon the words that comefrom your lips I know I can rely. "

"I will have no reservations with you, " said Henry, sadly. "You ought toknow all, and you shall. Prepare yourself for the strangest revelationyou ever heard. "

"Indeed!"

"Ay. One which in hearing you may well doubt; and one which, I hope, youwill never find an opportunity of verifying. "

"You speak in riddles. "

"And yet speak truly, Charles. You heard with what a frantic vehemenceFlora desired you to think no more of her?"

"I did--I did. "

"She was right. She is a noble-hearted girl for uttering those words. Adreadful incident in our family has occurred, which might well induceyou to pause before uniting your fate with that of any member of it. "

"Impossible. Nothing can possibly subdue the feelings of affection Ientertain for Flora. She is worthy of any one, and, as such, amid allchanges--all mutations of fortune, she shall be mine. "

"Do not suppose that any change of fortune has produced the scene youwere witness to. "

"Then, what else?"

"I will tell you, Holland. In all your travels, and in all your reading, did you ever come across anything about vampyres?"

"About what?" cried Charles, drawing his chair forward a little. "Aboutwhat?"

"You may well doubt the evidence of your own ears, Charles Holland, andwish me to repeat what I said. I say, do you know anything aboutvampyres?"

Charles Holland looked curiously in Henry's face, and the latterimmediately added, --

"I can guess what is passing in your mind at present, and I do notwonder at it. You think I must be mad. "

"Well, really, Henry, your extraordinary question--"

"I knew it. Were I you, I should hesitate to believe the tale; but thefact is, we have every reason to believe that one member of our ownfamily is one of those horrible preternatural beings called vampyres. "

"Good God, Henry, can you allow your judgment for a moment to stoop tosuch a supposition?"

"That is what I have asked myself a hundred times; but, Charles Holland, the judgment, the feelings, and all the prejudices, natural andacquired, must succumb to actual ocular demonstration. Listen to me, anddo not interrupt me. You shall know all, and you shall know itcircumstantially. "

Henry then related to the astonished Charles Holland all that hadoccurred, from the first alarm of Flora, up to that period when he, Holland, caught her in his arms as she was about to leave the room. 

"And now, " he said, in conclusion, "I cannot tell what opinion you maycome to as regards these most singular events. You will recollect thathere is the unbiassed evidence of four or five people to the facts, and, beyond that, the servants, who have seen something of the horriblevisitor. "

"You bewilder me, utterly, " said Charles Holland. 

"As we are all bewildered. "

"But--but, gracious Heaven! it cannot be. "

"It is. "

"No--no. There is--there must be yet some dreadful mistake. "

"Can you start any supposition by which we can otherwise explain any ofthe phenomena I have described to you? If you can, for Heaven's sake doso, and you will find no one who will cling to it with more tenacitythan I. "

"Any other species or kind of supernatural appearance might admit ofargument; but this, to my perception, is too wildly improbable--too muchat variance with all we see and know of the operations of nature. "

"It is so. All that we have told ourselves repeatedly, and yet is allhuman reason at once struck down by the few brief words of--'We haveseen it. '"

"I would doubt my eyesight. "

"One might; but many cannot be labouring under the same delusion. "

"My friend, I pray you, do not make me shudder at the supposition thatsuch a dreadful thing as this is at all possible. "

"_I_ am, believe me, Charles, most unwilling to oppress anyone with theknowledge of these evils; but you are so situated with us, that youought to know, and you will clearly understand that you may, withperfect honour, now consider yourself free from all engagements you haveentered into with Flora. "

"No, no! By Heaven, no!"

"Yes, Charles. Reflect upon the consequences now of a union with such afamily. "

"Oh, Henry Bannerworth, can you suppose me so dead to all good feeling, so utterly lost to honourable impulses, as to eject from my heart herwho has possession of it entirely, on such a ground as this?"

"You would be justified. "

"Coldly justified in prudence I might be. There are a thousandcircumstances in which a man may be justified in a particular course ofaction, and that course yet may be neither honourable nor just. I loveFlora; and were she tormented by the whole of the supernatural world, Ishould still love her. Nay, it becomes, then, a higher and a nobler dutyon my part to stand between her and those evils, if possible. "

"Charles--Charles, " said Henry, "I cannot of course refuse to you mymeed of praise and admiration for your generosity of feeling; but, remember, if we are compelled, despite all our feelings and all ourpredilections to the contrary, to give in to a belief in the existenceof vampyres, why may we not at once receive as the truth all that isrecorded of them?"

"To what do you allude?"

"To this. That one who has been visited by a vampyre, and whose bloodhas formed a horrible repast for such a being, becomes, after death, oneof the dreadful race, and visits others in the same way. "

"Now this must be insanity, " cried Charles. 

"It bears the aspect of it, indeed, " said Henry; "oh, that you could bysome means satisfy yourself that I am mad. "

"There may be insanity in this family, " thought Charles, with such anexquisite pang of misery, that he groaned aloud. 

"Already, " added Henry, mournfully, "already the blighting influence ofthe dreadful tale is upon you, Charles. Oh, let me add my advice toFlora's entreaties. She loves you, and we all esteem you; fly, then, from us, and leave us to encounter our miseries alone. Fly from us, Charles Holland, and take with you our best wishes for happiness whichyou cannot know here. "

"Never, " cried Charles; "I devote my existence to Flora. I will not playthe coward, and fly from one whom I love, on such grounds. I devote mylife to her. "

Henry could not speak for emotion for several minutes, and when atlength, in a faltering voice, he could utter some words, he said, --

"God of heaven, what happiness is marred by these horrible events? Whathave we all done to be the victims of such a dreadful act of vengeance?"

"Henry, do not talk in that way, " cried Charles. "Rather let us bend allour energies to overcoming the evil, than spend any time in uselesslamentations. I cannot even yet give in to a belief in the existence ofsuch a being as you say visited Flora. "

"But the evidences. "

"Look you here, Henry: until I am convinced that some things havehappened which it is totally impossible could happen by any human meanswhatever, I will not ascribe them to supernatural influence. "

"But what human means, Charles, could produce what I have now narratedto you?"

"I do not know, just at present, but I will give the subject the mostattentive consideration. Will you accommodate me here for a time?"

"You know you are as welcome here as if the house were your own, and allthat it contains. "

"I believe so, most truly. You have no objection, I presume, to myconversing with Flora upon this strange subject?"

"Certainly not. Of course you will be careful to say nothing which canadd to her fears. "

"I shall be most guarded, believe me. You say that your brother George, Mr. Chillingworth, yourself, and this Mr. Marchdale, have all beencognisant of the circumstances. "

"Yes--yes. "

"Then with the whole of them you permit me to hold free communicationupon the subject?"

"Most certainly. "

"I will do so then. Keep up good heart, Henry, and this affair, whichlooks so full of terror at first sight, may yet be divested of some ofits hideous aspect. "

"I am rejoiced, if anything can rejoice me now, " said Henry, "to see youview the subject with so much philosophy. "

"Why, " said Charles, "you made a remark of your own, which enabled me, viewing the matter in its very worst and most hideous aspect, to gatherhope. "

"What was that?"

"You said, properly and naturally enough, that if ever we felt thatthere was such a weight of evidence in favour of a belief in theexistence of vampyres that we are compelled to succumb to it, we mightas well receive all the popular feelings and superstitions concerningthem likewise. "

"I did. Where is the mind to pause, when once we open it to thereception of such things?"

"Well, then, if that be the case, we will watch this vampyre and catchit. "

"Catch it?"

"Yes; surely it can be caught; as I understand, this species of being isnot like an apparition, that may be composed of thin air, and utterlyimpalpable to the human touch, but it consists of a revivified corpse. "

"Yes, yes. "

"Then it is tangible and destructible. By Heaven! if ever I catch aglimpse of any such thing, it shall drag me to its home, be that whereit may, or I will make it prisoner. "

"Oh, Charles! you know not the feeling of horror that will come acrossyou when you do. You have no idea of how the warm blood will seem tocurdle in your veins, and how you will be paralysed in every limb. "

"Did you feel so?"

"I did. "

"I will endeavour to make head against such feelings. The love of Florashall enable me to vanquish them. Think you it will come againto-morrow?"

[Illustration]

"I can have no thought the one way or the other. "

"It may. We must arrange among us all, Henry, some plan of watchingwhich, without completely prostrating our health and strength, willalways provide that one shall be up all night and on the alert. "

"It must be done. "

"Flora ought to sleep with the consciousness now that she has ever athand some intrepid and well-armed protector, who is not only himselfprepared to defend her, but who can in a moment give an alarm to us all, in case of necessity requiring it. "

"It would be a dreadful capture to make to seize a vampyre, " said Henry. 

"Not at all; it would be a very desirable one. Being a corpserevivified, it is capable of complete destruction, so as to render it nolonger a scourge to any one. "

"Charles, Charles, are you jesting with me, or do you really give anycredence to the story?"

"My dear friend, I always make it a rule to take things at their worst, and then I cannot be disappointed. I am content to reason upon thismatter as if the fact of the existence of a vampyre were thoroughlyestablished, and then to think upon what is best to be done about it. "

"You are right. "

"If it should turn out then that there is an error in the fact, well andgood--we are all the better off; but if otherwise, we are prepared, andarmed at all points. "

"Let it be so, then. It strikes me, Charles, that you will be thecoolest and the calmest among us all on this emergency; but the hour nowwaxes late, I will get them to prepare a chamber for you, and at leastto-night, after what has occurred already, I should think we can beunder no apprehension. "

"Probably not. But, Henry, if you would allow me to sleep in that roomwhere the portrait hangs of him whom you suppose to be the vampyre, Ishould prefer it. "

"Prefer it!"

"Yes; I am not one who courts danger for danger's sake, but I wouldrather occupy that room, to see if the vampyre, who perhaps has apartiality for it, will pay me a visit. "

"As you please, Charles. You can have the apartment. It is in the samestate as when occupied by Flora. Nothing has been, I believe, removedfrom it. "

"You will let me, then, while I remain here, call it my room?"

"Assuredly. "

This arrangement was accordingly made to the surprise of all thehousehold, not one of whom would, indeed, have slept, or attempted tosleep there for any amount of reward. But Charles Holland had his ownreasons for preferring that chamber, and he was conducted to it in thecourse of half an hour by Henry, who looked around it with a shudder, ashe bade his young friend good night. 

CHAPTER XII. 

CHARLES HOLLAND'S SAD FEELINGS. --THE PORTRAIT. --THE OCCURRENCE OF THENIGHT AT THE HALL. 

[Illustration]

Charles Holland wished to be alone, if ever any human being had wishedfervently to be so. His thoughts were most fearfully oppressive. 

The communication that had been made to him by Henry Bannerworth, hadabout it too many strange, confirmatory circumstances to enable him totreat it, in his own mind, with the disrespect that some mere freak of adistracted and weak imagination would, most probably, have received fromhim. 

He had found Flora in a state of excitement which could arise only fromsome such terrible cause as had been mentioned by her brother, and thenhe was, from an occurrence which certainly never could have entered intohis calculations, asked to forego the bright dream of happiness which hehad held so long and so rapturously to his heart. 

How truly he found that the course of true love ran not smooth; and yethow little would any one have suspected that from such a cause as thatwhich now oppressed his mind, any obstruction would arise. 

Flora might have been fickle and false; he might have seen some otherfairer face, which might have enchained his fancy, and woven for him anew heart's chain; death might have stepped between him and therealization of his fondest hopes; loss of fortune might have made thelove cruel which would have yoked to its distresses a young andbeautiful girl, reared in the lap of luxury, and who was not, even bythose who loved her, suffered to feel, even in later years, any of thepinching necessities of the family. 

All these things were possible--some of them were probable; and yet noneof them had occurred. She loved him still; and he, although he hadlooked on many a fair face, and basked in the sunny smiles of beauty, had never for a moment forgotten her faith, or lost his devotion to hisown dear English girl. 

Fortune he had enough for both; death had not even threatened to rob himof the prize of such a noble and faithful heart which he had won. But ahorrible superstition had arisen, which seemed to place at once animpassable abyss between them, and to say to him, in a voice ofthundering denunciation, --

"Charles Holland, will you have a vampyre for your bride?"

The thought was terrific. He paced the gloomy chamber to and fro withrapid strides, until the idea came across his mind that by so doing hemight not only be proclaiming to his kind entertainers how much he wasmentally distracted, but he likewise might be seriously distractingthem. 

The moment this occurred to him he sat down, and was profoundly stillfor some time. He then glanced at the light which had been given to him, and he found himself almost unconsciously engaged in a mentalcalculation as to how long it would last him in the night. 

Half ashamed, then, of such terrors, as such a consideration would seemto indicate, he was on the point of hastily extinguishing it, when hehappened to cast his eyes on the now mysterious and highly interestingportrait in the panel. 

The picture, as a picture, was well done, whether it was a correctlikeness or not of the party whom it represented. It was one of thosekind of portraits that seem so life-like, that, as you look at them, they seem to return your gaze fully, and even to follow you with theireyes from place to place. 

By candle-light such an effect is more likely to become striking andremarkable than by daylight; and now, as Charles Holland shaded his owneyes from the light, so as to cast its full radiance upon the portrait, he felt wonderfully interested in its life-like appearance. 

"Here is true skill, " he said; "such as I have not before seen. Howstrangely this likeness of a man whom I never saw seems to gaze uponme. "

Unconsciously, too, he aided the effect, which he justly enough calledlife-like, by a slight movement of the candle, such as any one notblessed with nerves of iron would be sure to make, and such a movementmade the face look as if it was inspired with vitality. 

Charles remained looking at the portrait for a considerable period oftime. He found a kind of fascination in it which prevented him fromdrawing his eyes away from it. It was not fear which induced him tocontinue gazing on it, but the circumstance that it was a likeness ofthe man who, after death, was supposed to have borrowed so new and sohideous an existence, combined with its artistic merits, chained him tothe spot. 

"I shall now, " he said, "know that face again, let me see it where Imay, or under what circumstances I may. Each feature is now indeliblyfixed upon my memory--I never can mistake it. "

He turned aside as he uttered these words, and as he did so his eyesfell upon a part of the ornamental frame which composed the edge of thepanel, and which seemed to him to be of a different colour from thesurrounding portion. 

Curiosity and increased interest prompted him at once to make a closerinquiry into the matter; and, by a careful and diligent scrutiny, he wasalmost induced to come to the positive opinion, that it no very distantperiod in time past, the portrait had been removed from the place itoccupied. 

When once this idea, even vague and indistinct as it was, in consequenceof the slight grounds he formed it on, had got possession of his mind, he felt most anxious to prove its verification or its fallacy. 

He held the candle in a variety of situations, so that its light fell indifferent ways on the picture; and the more he examined it, the more hefelt convinced that it must have been moved lately. 

It would appear as if, in its removal, a piece of the old oaken carvedframework of the panel had been accidentally broken off, which causedthe new look of the fracture, and that this accident, from the nature ofthe broken bit of framing, could have occurred in any other way thanfrom an actual or attempted removal of the picture, he felt wasextremely unlikely. 

He set down the candle on a chair near at hand, and tried if the panelwas fast in its place. Upon the very first touch, he felt convinced itwas not so, and that it easily moved. How to get it out, though, presented a difficulty, and to get it out was tempting. 

"Who knows, " he said to himself, "what may be behind it? This is an oldbaronial sort of hall, and the greater portion of it was, no doubt, built at a time when the construction of such places as hidden chambersand intricate staircases were, in all buildings of importance, considered a disiderata. "

That he should make some discovery behind the portrait, now became anidea that possessed him strongly, although he certainly had no definitegrounds for really supposing that he should do so. 

Perhaps the wish was more father to the thought than he, in the partialstate of excitement he was in, really imagined; but so it was. He feltconvinced that he should not be satisfied until he had removed thatpanel from the wall, and seen what was immediately behind it. 

After the panel containing the picture had been placed where it was, itappeared that pieces of moulding had been inserted all around, which hadhad the effect of keeping it in its place, and it was a fracture of oneof these pieces which had first called Charles Holland's attention tothe probability of the picture having been removed. That he should haveto get two, at least, of the pieces of moulding away, before he couldhope to remove the picture, was to him quite apparent, and he wasconsidering how he should accomplish such a result, when he was suddenlystartled by a knock at his chamber door. 

Until that sudden demand for admission at his door came, he scarcelyknew to what a nervous state he had worked himself up. It was an oddsort of tap--one only--a single tap, as if some one demanded admittance, and wished to awaken his attention with the least possible chance ofdisturbing any one else. 

"Come in, " said Charles, for he knew he had not fastened his door; "comein. "

There was no reply, but after a moment's pause, the same sort of low tapcame again. 

Again he cried "come in, " but, whoever it was, seemed determined thatthe door should be opened for him, and no movement was made from theoutside. A third time the tap came, and Charles was very close to thedoor when he heard it, for with a noiseless step he had approached itintending to open it. The instant this third mysterious demand foradmission came, he did open it wide. There was no one there! In aninstant he crossed the threshold into the corridor, which ran right andleft. A window at one end of it now sent in the moon's rays, so that itwas tolerably light, but he could see no one. Indeed, to look for anyone, he felt sure was needless, for he had opened his chamber-dooralmost simultaneously with the last knock for admission. 

"It is strange, " he said, as he lingered on the threshold of his roomdoor for some moments; "my imagination could not so completely deceiveme. There was most certainly a demand for admission. "

Slowly, then, he returned to his room again, and closed the door behindhim. 

"One thing is evident, " he said, "that if I am in this apartment to besubjected to these annoyances, I shall get no rest, which will soonexhaust me. "

This thought was a very provoking one, and the more he thought that heshould ultimately find a necessity for giving up that chamber he hadhimself asked as a special favour to be allowed to occupy, the morevexed he became to think what construction might be put upon his conductfor so doing. 

"They will all fancy me a coward, " he thought, "and that I dare notsleep here. They may not, of course, say so, but they will think that myappearing so bold was one of those acts of bravado which I have notcourage to carry fairly out. "

Taking this view of the matter was just the way to enlist a young man'spride in staying, under all circumstances, where he was, and, with aslight accession of colour, which, even although he was alone, wouldvisit his cheeks, Charles Holland said aloud, --

"I will remain the occupant of this room come what may, happen what may. No terrors, real or unsubstantial, shall drive me from it: I will bravethem all, and remain here to brave them. "

Tap came the knock at the door again, and now, with more an air ofvexation than fear, Charles turned again towards it, and listened. Tapin another minute again succeeded, and much annoyed, he walked close tothe door, and laid his hand upon the lock, ready to open it at theprecise moment of another demand for admission being made. 

He had not to wait long. In about half a minute it came again, and, simultaneously with the sound, the door flew open. There was no one tobe seen; but, as he opened the door, he heard a strange sound in thecorridor--a sound which scarcely could be called a groan, and scarcely asigh, but seemed a compound of both, having the agony of the onecombined with the sadness of the other. From what direction it came hecould not at the moment decide, but he called out, --

"Who's there? who's there?"

The echo of his own voice alone answered him for a few moments, and thenhe heard a door open, and a voice, which he knew to be Henry's, cried, --

"What is it? who speaks?"

"Henry, " said Charles. 

"Yes--yes--yes. "

"I fear I have disturbed you. "

"You have been disturbed yourself, or you would not have done so. Ishall be with you in a moment. "

Henry closed his door before Charles Holland could tell him not to cometo him, as he intended to do, for he felt ashamed to have, in a mannerof speaking, summoned assistance for so trifling a cause of alarm asthat to which he had been subjected. However, he could not go to Henry'schamber to forbid him from coming to his, and, more vexed than before, he retired to his room again to await his coming. 

He left the door open now, so that Henry Bannerworth, when he had got onsome articles of dress, walked in at once, saying, --

"What has happened, Charles?"

"A mere trifle, Henry, concerning which I am ashamed you should havebeen at all disturbed. "

"Never mind that, I was wakeful. "

"I heard a door open, which kept me listening, but I could not decidewhich door it was till I heard your voice in the corridor. "

"Well, it was this door; and I opened it twice in consequence of therepeated taps for admission that came to it; some one has been knockingat it, and, when I go to it, lo! I can see nobody. "

"Indeed!"

[Illustration]

"Such is the case. "

"You surprise me. "

"I am very sorry to have disturbed you, because, upon such a ground, Ido not feel that I ought to have done so; and, when I called out in thecorridor, I assure you it was with no such intention. "

"Do not regret it for a moment, " said Henry; "you were quite justifiedin making an alarm on such an occasion. "

"It's strange enough, but still it may arise from some accidental cause;admitting, if we did but know it, of some ready enough explanation. "

"It may, certainly, but, after what has happened already, we may wellsuppose a mysterious connexion between any unusual sight or sound, andthe fearful ones we have already seen. "

"Certainly we may. "

"How earnestly that strange portrait seems to look upon us, Charles. "

"It does, and I have been examining it carefully. It seems to have beenremoved lately. "

"Removed!"

"Yes, I think, as far as I can judge, that it has been taken from itsframe; I mean, that the panel on which it is painted has been takenout. "

"Indeed!"

"If you touch it you will find it loose, and, upon a close examination, you will perceive that a piece of the moulding which holds it in itsplace has been chipped off, which is done in such a place that I thinkit could only have arisen during the removal of the picture. "

"You must be mistaken. "

"I cannot, of course, take upon myself, Henry, to say precisely such isthe case, " said Charles. 

"But there is no one here to do so. "

"That I cannot say. Will you permit me and assist me to remove it? Ihave a great curiosity to know what is behind it. "

"If you have, I certainly will do so. We thought of taking it awayaltogether, but when Flora left this room the idea was given up asuseless. Remain here a few moments, and I will endeavour to findsomething which shall assist us in its removal. "

Henry left the mysterious chamber in order to search in his own for somemeans of removing the frame-work of the picture, so that the panel wouldslip easily out, and while he was gone, Charles Holland continued gazingupon it with greater interest, if possible, than before. 

In a few minutes Henry returned, and although what he had succeeded infinding were very inefficient implements for the purpose, yet with thisaid the two young men set about the task. 

It is said, and said truly enough, that "where there is a will there isa way, " and although the young men had no tools at all adapted for thepurpose, they did succeed in removing the moulding from the sides of thepanel, and then by a little tapping at one end of it, and using a knifeat a lever at the other end of the panel, they got it fairly out. 

Disappointment was all they got for their pains. On the other side therewas nothing but a rough wooden wall, against which the finer and morenicely finished oak panelling of the chamber rested. 

"There is no mystery here, " said Henry. 

"None whatever, " said Charles, as he tapped the wall with his knuckles, and found it all hard and sound. "We are foiled. "

"We are indeed. "

"I had a strange presentiment, now, " added Charles, "that we should makesome discovery that would repay us for our trouble. It appears, however, that such is not to be the case; for you see nothing presents itself tous but the most ordinary appearances. "

"I perceive as much; and the panel itself, although of more thanordinary thickness, is, after all, but a bit of planed oak, andapparently fashioned for no other object than to paint the portrait on. "

"True. Shall we replace it?"

Charles reluctantly assented, and the picture was replaced in itsoriginal position. We say Charles reluctantly assented, because, although he had now had ocular demonstration that there was reallynothing behind the panel but the ordinary woodwork which might have beenexpected from the construction of the old house, yet he could not, evenwith such a fact staring him in the face, get rid entirely of thefeeling that had come across him, to the effect that the picture hadsome mystery or another. 

"You are not yet satisfied, " said Henry, as he observed the doubtfullook of Charles Holland's face. 

"My dear friend, " said Charles, "I will not deceive you. I am muchdisappointed that we have made no discovery behind that picture. "

"Heaven knows we have mysteries enough in our family, " said Henry. 

Even as he spoke they were both startled by a strange clattering noiseat the window, which was accompanied by a shrill, odd kind of shriek, which sounded fearful and preternatural on the night air. 

"What is that?" said Charles. 

"God only knows, " said Henry. 

The two young men naturally turned their earnest gaze in the directionof the window, which we have before remarked was one unprovided withshutters, and there, to their intense surprise, they saw, slowly risingup from the lower part of it, what appeared to be a human form. Henrywould have dashed forward, but Charles restrained him, and drawingquickly from its case a large holster pistol, he levelled it carefullyat the figure, saying in a whisper, --

"Henry, if I don't hit it, I will consent to forfeit my head. "

He pulled the trigger--a loud report followed--the room was filled withsmoke, and then all was still. A circumstance, however, had occurred, asa consequence of the concussion of air produced by the discharge of thepistol, which neither of the young men had for the moment calculatedupon, and that was the putting out of the only light they there had. 

In spite of this circumstance, Charles, the moment he had discharged thepistol, dropped it and sprung forward to the window. But here he wasperplexed, for he could not find the old fashioned, intricate fasteningwhich held it shut, and he had to call to Henry, --

"Henry! For God's sake open the window for me, Henry! The fastening ofthe window is known to you, but not to me. Open it for me. "

Thus called upon, Henry sprung forward, and by this time the report ofthe pistol had effectually alarmed the whole household. The flashing oflights from the corridor came into the room, and in another minute, justas Henry succeeded in getting the window wide open, and Charles Hollandhad made his way on to the balcony, both George Bannerworth and Mr. Marchdale entered the chamber, eager to know what had occurred. To theireager questions Henry replied, --

"Ask me not now;" and then calling to Charles, he said, --"Remain whereyou are, Charles, while I run down to the garden immediately beneath thebalcony. "

"Yes--yes, " said Charles. 

Henry made prodigious haste, and was in the garden immediately below thebay window in a wonderfully short space of time. He spoke to Charles, saying, --

"Will you now descend? I can see nothing here; but we will both make asearch. "

George and Mr. Marchdale were both now in the balcony, and they wouldhave descended likewise, but Henry said, --

"Do not all leave the house. God only knows, now, situated as we are, what might happen. "

"I will remain, then, " said George. "I have been sitting up to-night asthe guard, and, therefore, may as well continue to do so. "

Marchdale and Charles Holland clambered over the balcony, and easily, from its insignificant height, dropped into the garden. The night wasbeautiful, and profoundly still. There was not a breath of airsufficient to stir a leaf on a tree, and the very flame of the candlewhich Charles had left burning in the balcony burnt clearly andsteadily, being perfectly unruffled by any wind. 

It cast a sufficient light close to the window to make everything veryplainly visible, and it was evident at a glance that no object wasthere, although had that figure, which Charles shot at, and no doubthit, been flesh and blood, it must have dropped immediately below. 

As they looked up for a moment after a cursory examination of theground, Charles exclaimed, --

"Look at the window! As the light is now situated, you can see the holemade in one of the panes of glass by the passage of the bullet from mypistol. "

They did look, and there the clear, round hole, without any starring, which a bullet discharged close to a pane of glass will make in it, wasclearly and plainly discernible. 

"You must have hit him, " said Henry. 

"One would think so, " said Charles; "for that was the exact place wherethe figure was. "

"And there is nothing here, " added Marchdale. "What can we think ofthese events--what resource has the mind against the most dreadfulsuppositions concerning them?"

Charles and Henry were both silent; in truth, they knew not what tothink, and the words uttered by Marchdale were too strikingly true todispute for a moment. They were lost in wonder. 

"Human means against such an appearance as we saw to-night, " saidCharles, "are evidently useless. "

"My dear young friend, " said Marchdale, with much emotion, as he graspedHenry Bannerworth's hand, and the tears stood in his eyes as he didso, --"my dear young friend, these constant alarms will kill you. Theywill drive you, and all whose happiness you hold dear, distracted. Youmust control these dreadful feelings, and there is but one chance that Ican see of getting now the better of these. "

"What is that?"

"By leaving this place for ever. "

"Alas! am I to be driven from the home of my ancestors from such a causeas this? And whither am I to fly? Where are we to find a refuge? Toleave here will be at once to break up the establishment which is nowheld together, certainly upon the sufferance of creditors, but still totheir advantage, inasmuch as I am doing what no one else would do, namely, paying away to within the scantiest pittance the whole proceedsof the estate that spreads around me. "

"Heed nothing but an escape from such horrors as seem to be accumulatingnow around you. "

"If I were sure that such a removal would bring with it such acorresponding advantage, I might, indeed, be induced to risk all toaccomplish it. "

"As regards poor dear Flora, " said Mr. Marchdale, "I know not what tosay, or what to think; she has been attacked by a vampyre, and afterthis mortal life shall have ended, it is dreadful to think there may bea possibility that she, with all her beauty, all her excellence andpurity of mind, and all those virtues and qualities which should makeher the beloved of all, and which do, indeed, attach all hearts towardsher, should become one of that dreadful tribe of beings who cling toexistence by feeding, in the most dreadful manner, upon the life bloodof others--oh, it is too dreadful to contemplate! Too horrible--toohorrible!"

"Then wherefore speak of it?" said Charles, with some asperity. "Now, bythe great God of Heaven, who sees all our hearts, I will not give in tosuch a horrible doctrine! I will not believe it; and were death itselfmy portion for my want of faith, I would this moment die in my disbeliefof anything so truly fearful!"

"Oh, my young friend, " added Marchdale, "if anything could add to thepangs which all who love, and admire, and respect Flora Bannerworth mustfeel at the unhappy condition in which she is placed, it would be thenoble nature of you, who, under happier auspices, would have been herguide through life, and the happy partner of her destiny. "

"As I will be still. "

"May Heaven forbid it! We are now among ourselves, and can talk freelyupon such a subject. Mr. Charles Holland, if you wed, you would lookforward to being blessed with children--those sweet ties which bind thesternest hearts to life with so exquisite a bondage. Oh, fancy, then, for a moment, the mother of your babes coming at the still hour ofmidnight to drain from their veins the very life blood she gave to them. To drive you and them mad with the expected horror of suchvisitations--to make your nights hideous--your days but so many hours ofmelancholy retrospection. Oh, you know not the world of terror, on theawful brink of which you stand, when you talk of making FloraBannerworth a wife. "

"Peace! oh, peace!" said Henry. 

"Nay, I know my words are unwelcome, " continued Mr. Marchdale. "Ithappens, unfortunately for human nature, that truth and some of our bestand holiest feelings are too often at variance, and hold a sadcontest--"

"I will hear no more of this, " cried Charles Holland. --"I will hear nomore. "

"I have done, " said Mr. Marchdale. 

"And 'twere well you had not begun. "

"Nay, say not so. I have but done what I considered was a solemn duty. "

"Under that assumption of doing duty--a solemn duty--heedless of thefeelings and the opinions of others, " said Charles, sarcastically, "moremischief is produced--more heart-burnings and anxieties caused, than byany other two causes of such mischievous results combined. I wish tohear no more of this. "

"Do not be angered with Mr. Marchdale, Charles, " said Henry. "He canhave no motive but our welfare in what he says. We should not condemn aspeaker because his words may not sound pleasant to our ears. "

"By Heaven!" said Charles, with animation, "I meant not to be illiberal;but I will not because I cannot see a man's motives for activeinterference in the affairs of others, always be ready, merely onaccount of such ignorance, to jump to a conclusion that they must beestimable. "

"To-morrow, I leave this house, " said Marchdale. 

"Leave us?" exclaimed Henry. 

"Ay, for ever. "

"Nay, now, Mr. Marchdale, is this generous?"

"Am I treated generously by one who is your own guest, and towards whomI was willing to hold out the honest right hand of friendship?"

Henry turned to Charles Holland, saying, --

"Charles, I know your generous nature. Say you meant no offence to mymother's old friend. "

"If to say I meant no offence, " said Charles, "is to say I meant noinsult, I say it freely. "

"Enough, " cried Marchdale; "I am satisfied. "

"But do not, " added Charles, "draw me any more such pictures as the oneyou have already presented to my imagination, I beg of you. From thestorehouse of my own fancy I can find quite enough to make me wretched, if I choose to be so; but again and again do I say I will not allow thismonstrous superstition to tread me down, like the tread of a giant on abroken reed. I will contend against it while I have life to do so. "

"Bravely spoken. "

"And when I desert Flora Bannerworth, may Heaven, from that moment, desert me!"

"Charles!" cried Henry, with emotion, "dear Charles, my more thanfriend--brother of my heart--noble Charles!"

"Nay, Henry, I am not entitled to your praises. I were base indeed to beother than that which I purpose to be. Come weal or woe--come what may, I am the affianced husband of your sister, and she, and she only, canbreak asunder the tie that binds me to her. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE OFFER FOR THE HALL. --THE VISIT TO SIR FRANCIS VARNEY. --THE STRANGERESEMBLANCE. --A DREADFUL SUGGESTION. 

[Illustration]

The party made a strict search through every nook and corner of thegarden, but it proved to be a fruitless one: not the least trace of anyone could be found. There was only one circumstance, which was ponderedover deeply by them all, and that was that, beneath the window of theroom in which Flora and her mother sat while the brothers were on theirvisit to the vault of their ancestors, were visible marks of blood to aconsiderable extent. 

It will be remembered that Flora had fired a pistol at the spectralappearance, and that immediately upon that it had disappeared, afteruttering a sound which might well be construed into a cry of pain from awound. 

That a wound then had been inflicted upon some one, the blood beneaththe window now abundantly testified; and when it was discovered, Henryand Charles made a very close examination indeed of the garden, todiscover what direction the wounded figure, be it man or vampyre, hadtaken. 

[Illustration]

But the closest scrutiny did not reveal to them a single spot of blood, beyond the space immediately beneath the window;--there the apparitionseemed to have received its wound, and then, by some mysterious means, to have disappeared. 

At length, wearied with the continued excitement, combined with want ofsleep, to which they had been subjected, they returned to the hall. 

Flora, with the exception of the alarm she experienced from the firingof the pistol, had met with no disturbance, and that, in order to spareher painful reflections, they told her was merely done as aprecautionary measure, to proclaim to any one who might be lurking inthe garden that the inmates of the house were ready to defend themselvesagainst any aggression. 

Whether or not she believed this kind deceit they knew not. She onlysighed deeply, and wept. The probability is, that she more thansuspected the vampyre had made another visit, but they forbore to pressthe point; and, leaving her with her mother, Henry and George went fromher chamber again--the former to endeavour to seek some repose, as itwould be his turn to watch on the succeeding night, and the latter toresume his station in a small room close to Flora's chamber, where ithad been agreed watch and ward should be kept by turns while the alarmlasted. 

At length, the morning again dawned upon that unhappy family, and tonone were its beams more welcome. 

The birds sang their pleasant carols beneath the window. The sweet, deep-coloured autumnal sun shone upon all objects with a golden luster;and to look abroad, upon the beaming face of nature, no one could for amoment suppose, except from sad experience, that there were such thingsas gloom, misery, and crime, upon the earth. 

"And must I, " said Henry, as he gazed from a window of the hall upon theundulating park, the majestic trees, the flowers, the shrubs, and themany natural beauties with which the place was full, --"must I be chasedfrom this spot, the home of my self and of my kindred, by aphantom--must I indeed seek refuge elsewhere, because my own home hasbecome hideous?"

It was indeed a cruel and a painful thought! It was one he yet wouldnot, could not be convinced was absolutely necessary. But now the sunwas shining: it was morning; and the feelings, which found a home in hisbreast amid the darkness, the stillness, and the uncertainty of night, were chased away by those glorious beams of sunlight, that fell uponhill, valley, and stream, and the thousand sweet sounds of life andanimation that filled that sunny air!

Such a revulsion of feeling was natural enough. Many of the distressesand mental anxieties of night vanish with the night, and those whichoppressed the heart of Henry Bannerworth were considerably modified. 

He was engaged in these reflections when he heard the sound of the lodgebell, and as a visitor was now somewhat rare at this establishment, hewaited with some anxiety to see to whom he was indebted for so early acall. 

In the course of a few minutes, one of the servants came to him with aletter in her hand. 

It bore a large handsome seal, and, from its appearance, would seem tohave come from some personage of consequence. A second glance at itshewed him the name of "Varney" in the corner, and, with some degree ofvexation, he muttered to himself, "Another condoling epistle from the troublesome neighbour whom I havenot yet seen. "

"If you please, sir, " said the servant who had brought him the letter, "as I'm here, and you are here, perhaps you'll have no objection to giveme what I'm to have for the day and two nights as I've been here, cos Ican't stay in a family as is so familiar with all sorts o' ghostesses: Iain't used to such company. "

"What do you mean?" said Henry. 

The question was a superfluous one--: too well he knew what the womanmeant, and the conviction came across his mind strongly that no domesticwould consent to live long in a house which was subject to such dreadfulvisitations. 

"What does I mean!" said the woman, --"why, sir, if it's all the same toyou, I don't myself come of a wampyre family, and I don't choose toremain in a house where there is sich things encouraged. That's what Imeans, sir. "

"What wages are owing to you?" said Henry. 

"Why, as to wages, I only comed here by the day. "

"Go, then, and settle with my mother. The sooner you leave this house, the better. "

"Oh, indeed. I'm sure I don't want to stay. "

This woman was one of those who were always armed at all points for arow, and she had no notion of concluding any engagement, of anycharacter whatever, without some disturbance; therefore, to see Henrytake what she said with such provoking calmness was aggravating in theextreme; but there was no help for such a source of vexation. She couldfind no other ground of quarrel than what was connected with thevampyre, and, as Henry would not quarrel with her on such a score, shewas compelled to give it up in despair. 

When Henry found himself alone, and free from the annoyance of thiswoman, he turned his attention to the letter he held in his hand, andwhich, from the autograph in the corner, he knew came from his newneighbour, Sir Francis Varney, whom, by some chance or another, he hadnever yet seen. 

To his great surprise, he found that the letter contained the followingwords:--

 Dear Sir, --"As a neighbour, by purchase of an estate contiguous to your own, I am quite sure you have excused, and taken in good part, the cordial offer I made to you of friendship and service some short time since; but now, in addressing to you a distinct proposition, I trust I shall meet with an indulgent consideration, whether such proposition be accordant with your views or not. 

 "What I have heard from common report induces me to believe that Bannerworth Hall cannot be a desirable residence for yourself, or your amiable sister. If I am right in that conjecture, and you have any serious thought of leaving the place, I would earnestly recommend you, as one having some experience in such descriptions of property, to sell it at once. 

 "Now, the proposition with which I conclude this letter is, I know, of a character to make you doubt the disinterestedness of such advice; but that it is disinterested, nevertheless, is a fact of which I can assure my own heart, and of which I beg to assure you. I propose, then, should you, upon consideration, decide upon such a course of proceeding, to purchase of you the Hall. I do not ask for a bargain on account of any extraneous circumstances which may at the present time depreciate the value of the property, but I am willing to give a fair price for it. Under these circumstances, I trust, sir, that you will give a kindly consideration to my offer, and even if you reject it, I hope that, as neighbours, we may live long in peace and amity, and in the interchange of those good offices which should subsist between us. Awaiting your reply, "Believe me to be, dear sir, "Your very obedient servant, "FRANCIS VARNEY. 

 "To Henry Bannerworth, Esq. "

Henry, after having read this most unobjectionable letter through, folded it up again, and placed it in his pocket. Clasping his hands, then, behind his back, a favourite attitude of his when he was in deepcontemplation, he paced to and fro in the garden for some time in deepthought. 

"How strange, " he muttered. "It seems that every circumstance combinesto induce me to leave my old ancestral home. It appears as if everythingnow that happened had that direct tendency. What can be the meaning ofall this? 'Tis very strange--amazingly strange. Here arise circumstanceswhich are enough to induce any man to leave a particular place. Then afriend, in whose single-mindedness and judgment I know I can rely, advises the step, and immediately upon the back of that comes a fair andcandid offer. "

There was an apparent connexion between all these circumstances whichmuch puzzled Henry. He walked to and fro for nearly an hour, until heheard a hasty footstep approaching him, and upon looking in thedirection from whence it came, he saw Mr. Marchdale. 

"I will seek Marchdale's advice, " he said, "upon this matter. I willhear what he says concerning it. "

"Henry, " said Marchdale, when he came sufficiently near to him forconversation, "why do you remain here alone?"

"I have received a communication from our neighbour, Sir FrancisVarney, " said Henry. 

"Indeed!"

"It is here. Peruse it for yourself, and then tell me, Marchdale, candidly what you think of it. "

"I suppose, " said Marchdale, as he opened the letter, "it is anotherfriendly note of condolence on the state of your domestic affairs, which, I grieve to say, from the prattling of domestics, whose tonguesit is quite impossible to silence, have become food for gossip all overthe neighbouring villages and estates. "

"If anything could add another pang to those I have already been made tosuffer, " said Henry, "it would certainly arise from being made the foodof vulgar gossip. But read the letter, Marchdale. You will find itscontents of a more important character than you anticipate. "

"Indeed!" said Marchdale, as he ran his eyes eagerly over the note. 

When he had finished it he glanced at Henry, who then said, --

"Well, what is your opinion?"

"I know not what to say, Henry. You know that my own advice to you hasbeen to get rid of this place. "

"It has. "

"With the hope that the disagreeable affair connected with it now mayremain connected with it as a house, and not with you and yours as afamily. "

"It may be so. "

"There appears to me every likelihood of it. "

"I do not know, " said Henry, with a shudder. "I must confess, Marchdale, that to my own perceptions it seems more probable that the infliction wehave experienced from the strange visitor, who seems now resolved topester us with visits, will rather attach to a family than to a house. The vampyre may follow us. "

"If so, of course the parting with the Hall would be a great pity, andno gain. "

"None in the least. "

"Henry, a thought has struck me. "

"Let's hear it, Marchdale. "

"It is this:--Suppose you were to try the experiment of leaving the Hallwithout selling it. Suppose for one year you were to let it to some one, Henry. "

"It might be done. "

"Ay, and it might, with very great promise and candour, be proposed tothis very gentleman, Sir Francis Varney, to take it for one year, to seehow he liked it before becoming the possessor of it. Then if he foundhimself tormented by the vampyre, he need not complete the purchase, orif you found that the apparition followed you from hence, you mightyourself return, feeling that perhaps here, in the spots familiar toyour youth, you might be most happy, even under such circumstances as atpresent oppress you. "

"Most happy!" ejaculated Henry. 

"Perhaps I should not have used that word. "

"I am sure you should not, " said Henry, "when you speak of me. "

"Well--well; let us hope that the time may not be very far distant whenI may use the term happy, as applied to you, in the most conclusive andthe strongest manner it can be used. "

"Oh, " said Henry, "I will hope; but do not mock me with it now, Marchdale, I pray you. "

"Heaven forbid that I should mock you!"

"Well--well; I do not believe you are the man to do so to any one. Butabout this affair of the house. "

"Distinctly, then, if I were you, I would call upon Sir Francis Varney, and make him an offer to become a tenant of the Hall for twelve months, during which time you could go where you please, and test the fact ofabsence ridding you or not ridding you of the dreadful visitant whomakes the night here truly hideous. "

"I will speak to my mother, to George, and to my sister of the matter. They shall decide. "

Mr. Marchdale now strove in every possible manner to raise the spiritsof Henry Bannerworth, by painting to him the future in far more radiantcolours than the present, and endeavouring to induce a belief in hismind that a short period of time might after all replace in his mind, and in the minds of those who were naturally so dear to him, all theirwonted serenity. 

Henry, although he felt not much comfort from these kindly efforts, yetcould feel gratitude to him who made them; and after expressing such afeeling to Marchdale, in strong terms, he repaired to the house, inorder to hold a solemn consultation with those whom he felt ought to beconsulted as well as himself as to what steps should be taken withregard to the Hall. 

The proposition, or rather the suggestion, which had been made byMarchdale upon the proposition of Sir Francis Varney, was in everyrespect so reasonable and just, that it met, as was to be expected, withthe concurrence of every member of the family. 

Flora's cheeks almost resumed some of their wonted colour at the merethought now of leaving that home to which she had been at one time somuch attached. 

"Yes, dear Henry, " she said, "let us leave here if you are agreeable soto do, and in leaving this house, we will believe that we leave behindus a world of terror. "

"Flora, " remarked Henry, in a tone of slight reproach, "if you were soanxious to leave Bannerworth Hall, why did you not say so before thisproposition came from other mouths? You know your feelings upon such asubject would have been laws to me. "

"I knew you were attached to the old house, " said Flora; "and, besides, events have come upon us all with such fearful rapidity, there hasscarcely been time to think. "

"True--true. "

"And you will leave, Henry?"

"I will call upon Sir Francis Varney myself, and speak to him upon thesubject. "

A new impetus to existence appeared now to come over the whole family, at the idea of leaving a place which always would be now associated intheir minds with so much terror. Each member of the family felt happier, and breathed more freely than before, so that the change which had comeover them seemed almost magical. And Charles Holland, too, was muchbetter pleased, and he whispered to Flora, --

"Dear Flora, you will now surely no longer talk of driving from you thehonest heart that loves you?"

"Hush, Charles, hush!" she said; "meet me an hour hence in the garden, and we will talk of this. "

"That hour will seem an age, " he said. 

Henry, now, having made a determination to see Sir Francis Varney, lostno time in putting it into execution. At Mr. Marchdale's own request, hetook him with him, as it was desirable to have a third person present inthe sort of business negotiation which was going on. The estate whichhad been so recently entered upon by the person calling himself SirFrancis Varney, and which common report said he had purchased, was asmall, but complete property, and situated so close to the groundsconnected with Bannerworth Hall, that a short walk soon placed Henry andMr. Marchdale before the residence of this gentleman, who had shown sokindly a feeling towards the Bannerworth family. 

"Have you seen Sir Francis Varney?" asked Henry of Mr. Marchdale, as herung the gate-bell. 

"I have not. Have you?"

"No; I never saw him. It is rather awkward our both being absolutestrangers to his person. "

"We can but send in our names, however; and, from the great vein ofcourtesy that runs through his letter, I have no doubt but we shallreceive the most gentlemanly reception from him. "

A servant in handsome livery appeared at the iron-gates, which openedupon a lawn in the front of Sir Francis Varney's house, and to thisdomestic Henry Bannerworth handed his card, on which he had written, inpencil, likewise the name of Mr. Marchdale. 

"If your master, " he said, "is within, we shall be glad to see him. "

"Sir Francis is at home, sir, " was the reply, "although not very well. If you will be pleased to walk in, I will announce you to him. "

Henry and Marchdale followed the man into a handsome enoughreception-room, where they were desired to wait while their names wereannounced. 

"Do you know if this gentleman be a baronet, " said Henry, "or a knightmerely?"

"I really do not; I never saw him in my life, or heard of him before hecame into this neighbourhood. "

"And I have been too much occupied with the painful occurrences of thishall to know anything of our neighbours. I dare say Mr. Chillingworth, if we had thought to ask him, would have known something concerninghim. "

"No doubt. "

This brief colloquy was put an end to by the servant, who said, --

"My master, gentlemen, is not very well; but he begs me to present hisbest compliments, and to say he is much gratified with your visit, andwill be happy to see you in his study. "

Henry and Marchdale followed the man up a flight of stone stairs, andthen they were conducted through a large apartment into a smaller one. There was very little light in this small room; but at the moment oftheir entrance a tall man, who was seated, rose, and, touching thespring of a blind that was to the window, it was up in a moment, admitting a broad glare of light. A cry of surprise, mingled withterror, came from Henry Bannerworth's lip. _The original of the portraiton the panel stood before him!_ There was the lofty stature, the long, sallow face, the slightly projecting teeth, the dark, lustrous, althoughsomewhat sombre eyes; the expression of the features--all were alike. 

"Are you unwell, sir?" said Sir Francis Varney, in soft, mellow accents, as he handed a chair to the bewildered Henry. 

"God of Heaven!" said Henry; "how like!"

"You seem surprised, sir. Have you ever seen me before?"

Sir Francis drew himself up to his full height, and cast a strangeglance upon Henry, whose eyes were rivetted upon his face, as if with aspecies of fascination which he could not resist. 

"Marchdale, " Henry gasped; "Marchdale, my friend, Marchdale. I--I amsurely mad. "

"Hush! be calm, " whispered Marchdale. 

"Calm--calm--can you not see? Marchdale, is this a dream?Look--look--oh! look. "

"For God's sake, Henry, compose yourself. "

"Is your friend often thus?" said Sir Francis Varney, with the samemellifluous tone which seemed habitual to him. 

"No, sir, he is not; but recent circumstances have shattered his nerves;and, to tell the truth, you bear so strong a resemblance to an oldportrait, in his house, that I do not wonder so much as I otherwiseshould at his agitation. "

"Indeed. "

"A resemblance!" said Henry; "a resemblance! God of Heaven! it is theface itself. "

"You much surprise me, " said Sir Francis. 

[Illustration]

Henry sunk into the chair which was near him, and he trembled violently. The rush of painful thoughts and conjectures that came through his mindwas enough to make any one tremble. "Is this the vampyre?" was thehorrible question that seemed impressed upon his very brain, in lettersof flame. "Is this the vampyre?"

"Are you better, sir?" said Sir Francis Varney, in his bland, musicalvoice. "Shall I order any refreshment for you?"

"No--no, " gasped Henry; "for the love of truth tell me! Is--is your namereally Varney!"

"Sir?"

"Have you no other name to which, perhaps, a better title you couldurge?"

"Mr. Bannerworth, I can assure you that I am too proud of the name ofthe family to which I belong to exchange it for any other, be it what itmay. "

"How wonderfully like!"

"I grieve to see you so much distressed. Mr. Bannerworth. I presume illhealth has thus shattered your nerves?"

"No; ill health has not done the work. I know not what to say, SirFrancis Varney, to you; but recent events in my family have made thesight of you full of horrible conjectures. "

"What mean you, sir?"

"You know, from common report, that we have had a fearful visitor at ourhouse. "

"A vampyre, I have heard, " said Sir Francis Varney, with a bland, andalmost beautiful smile, which displayed his white glistening teeth toperfection. 

"Yes; a vampyre, and--and--"

"I pray you go on, sir; you surely are far above the vulgar superstitionof believing in such matters?"

"My judgment is assailed in too many ways and shapes for it to hold outprobably as it ought to do against so hideous a belief, but never was itso much bewildered as now. "

"Why so?"

"Because--"

"Nay, Henry, " whispered Mr. Marchdale, "it is scarcely civil to tell SirFrancis to his face, that he resembles a vampyre. "

"I must, I must. "

"Pray, sir, " interrupted Varney to Marchdale, "permit Mr. Bannerworth tospeak here freely. There is nothing in the whole world I so much admireas candour. "

"Then you so much resemble the vampyre, " added Henry, "that--that I knownot what to think. "

"Is it possible?" said Varney. 

"It is a damning fact. "

"Well, it's unfortunate for me, I presume? Ah!"

Varney gave a twinge of pain, as if some sudden bodily ailment hadattacked him severely. 

"You are unwell, sir?" said Marchdale. 

"No, no--no, " he said; "I--hurt my arm, and happened accidentally totouch the arm of this chair with it. "

"A hurt?" said Henry. 

"Yes, Mr. Bannerworth. "

"A--a wound?"

"Yes, a wound, but not much more than skin deep. In fact, little beyondan abrasion of the skin. "

"May I inquire how you came by it?"

"Oh, yes. A slight fall. "

"Indeed. "

"Remarkable, is it not? Very remarkable. We never know a moment when, from same most trifling cause, we may receive really some serious bodilyharm. How true it is, Mr. Bannerworth, that in the midst of life we arein death. "

"And equally true, perhaps, " said Henry, "that in the midst of deaththere may be found a horrible life. "

"Well, I should not wonder. There are really so many strange things inthis world, that I have left off wondering at anything now. "

"There are strange things, " said Henry. "You wish to purchase of me theHall, sir?"

"If you wish to sell. "

"You--you are perhaps attached to the place? Perhaps you recollected it, sir, long ago?"

"Not very long, " smiled Sir Francis Varney. "It seems a nice comfortableold house; and the grounds, too, appear to be amazingly well wooded, which, to one of rather a romantic temperament like myself, is always anadditional charm to a place. I was extremely pleased with it the firsttime I beheld it, and a desire to call myself the owner of it tookpossession of my mind. The scenery is remarkable for its beauty, and, from what I have seen of it, it is rarely to be excelled. No doubt youare greatly attached to it. "

"It has been my home from infancy, " returned Henry, "and being also theresidence of my ancestors for centuries, it is natural that I should beso. "

"True--true. "

"The house, no doubt, has suffered much, " said Henry, "within the lasthundred years. "

"No doubt it has. A hundred years is a tolerable long space of time, youknow. "

"It is, indeed. Oh, how any human life which is spun out to such anextent, must lose its charms, by losing all its fondest and dearestassociations. "

"Ah, how true, " said Sir Francis Varney. He had some minutes previouslytouched a bell, and at this moment a servant brought in on a tray somewine and refreshments. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

HENRY'S AGREEMENT WITH SIR FRANCIS VARNEY. --THE SUDDEN ARRIVAL AT THEHALL. --FLORA'S ALARM. 

[Illustration]

On the tray which the servant brought into the room, were refreshmentsof different kinds, including wine, and after waving his hand for thedomestic to retire, Sir Francis Varney said, --

"You will be better, Mr. Bannerworth, for a glass of wine after yourwalk, and you too, sir. I am ashamed to say, I have quite forgotten yourname. "

"Marchdale. "

"Mr. Marchdale. Ay, Marchdale. Pray, sir, help yourself. "

"You take nothing yourself?" said Henry. 

"I am under a strict regimen, " replied Varney. "The simplest diet alonedoes for me, and I have accustomed myself to long abstinence. "

"He will not eat or drink, " muttered Henry, abstractedly. 

"Will you sell me the Hall?" said Sir Francis Varney. 

Henry looked in his face again, from which he had only momentarilywithdrawn his eyes, and he was then more struck than ever with theresemblance between him and the portrait on the panel of what had beenFlora's chamber. What made that resemblance, too, one about which therecould scarcely be two opinions, was the mark or cicatrix of a wound inthe forehead, which the painter had slightly indented in the portrait, but which was much more plainly visible on the forehead of Sir FrancisVarney. Now that Henry observed this distinctive mark, which he had notdone before, he could feel no doubt, and a sickening sensation came overhim at the thought that he was actually now in the presence of one ofthose terrible creatures, vampyres. 

"You do not drink, " said Varney. "Most young men are not so modest witha decanter of unimpeachable wine before them. I pray you help yourself. "

"I cannot. "

Henry rose as he spoke, and turning to Marchdale, he said, inaddition, --

"Will you come away?"

"If you please, " said Marchdale, rising. 

"But you have not, my dear sir, " said Varney, "given me yet any answerabout the Hall?"

"I cannot yet, " answered Henry, "I will think. My present impression is, to let you have it on whatever terms you may yourself propose, alwaysprovided you consent to one of mine. "

"Name it. "

"That you never show yourself in my family. "

"How very unkind. I understand you have a charming sister, young, beautiful, and accomplished. Shall I confess, now, that I had hopes ofmaking myself agreeable to her?"

"You make yourself agreeable to her? The sight of you would blast herfor ever, and drive her to madness. "

"Am I so hideous?"

"No, but--you are--"

"What am I?"

"Hush, Henry, hush, " cried Marchdale. "Remember you are in thisgentleman's house. "

"True, true. Why does he tempt me to say these dreadful things? I do notwant to say them. "

"Come away, then--come away at once. Sir Francis Varney, my friend, Mr. Bannerworth, will think over your offer, and let you know. I think youmay consider that your wish to become the purchaser of the Hall will becomplied with. "

"I wish to have it, " said Varney, "and I can only say, that if I ammaster of it, I shall be very happy to see any of the family on a visitat any time. "

"A visit!" said Henry, with a shudder. "A visit to the tomb were farmore desirable. Farewell, sir. "

"Adieu, " said Sir Francis Varney, and he made one of the most elegantbows in the world, while there came over his face a peculiarity ofexpression that was strange, if not painful, to contemplate. In anotherminute Henry and Marchdale were clear of the house, and with feelings ofbewilderment and horror, which beggar all description, poor Henryallowed himself to be led by the arm by Marchdale to some distance, without uttering a word. When he did speak, he said, --

"Marchdale, it would be charity of some one to kill me. "

"To kill you!"

"Yes, for I am certain otherwise that I must go mad. "

"Nay, nay; rouse yourself. "

"This man, Varney, is a vampyre. "

"Hush! hush!"

"I tell you, Marchdale, " cried Henry, in a wild, excited manner, "he isa vampyre. He is the dreadful being who visited Flora at the still hourof midnight, and drained the life-blood from her veins. He is a vampyre. There are such things. I cannot doubt now. Oh, God, I wish now that yourlightnings would blast me, as here I stand, for over into annihilation, for I am going mad to be compelled to feel that such horrors can reallyhave existence. "

"Henry--Henry. "

"Nay, talk not to me. What can I do? Shall I kill him? Is it not asacred duty to destroy such a thing? Oh, horror--horror. He must bekilled--destroyed--burnt, and the very dust to which he is consumed mustbe scattered to the winds of Heaven. It would be a deed well done, Marchdale. "

"Hush! hush! These words are dangerous. "

"I care not. "

"What if they were overheard now by unfriendly ears? What might not bethe uncomfortable results? I pray you be more cautious what you say ofthis strange man. "

"I must destroy him. "

"And wherefore?"

"Can you ask? Is he not a vampyre?"

"Yes; but reflect, Henry, for a moment upon the length to which youmight carry out so dangerous an argument. It is said that vampyres aremade by vampyres sucking the blood of those who, but for thatcircumstance, would have died and gone to decay in the tomb along withordinary mortals; but that being so attacked during life by a vampyre, they themselves, after death, become such. "

"Well--well, what is that to me?"

"Have you forgotten Flora?"

A cry of despair came from poor Henry's lips, and in a moment he seemedcompletely, mentally and physically, prostrated. 

"God of Heaven!" he moaned, "I had forgotten her!"

"I thought you had. "

"Oh, if the sacrifice of my own life would suffice to put an end to allthis accumulating horror, how gladly would I lay it down. Ay, in anyway--in any way. No mode of death should appal me. No amount of painmake me shrink. I could smile then upon the destroyer, and say, 'welcome--welcome--most welcome. '"

"Rather, Henry, seek to live for those whom you love than die for them. Your death would leave them desolate. In life you may ward off many ablow of fate from them. "

"I may endeavour so to do. "

"Consider that Flora may be wholly dependent upon such kindness as youmay be able to bestow upon her. "

"Charles clings to her. "

"Humph!"

"You do not doubt him?"

"My dear friend, Henry Bannerworth, although I am not an old man, yet Iam so much older than you that I have seen a great deal of the world, and am, perhaps, far better able to come to accurate judgments withregard to individuals. "

"No doubt--no doubt; but yet--"

"Nay, hear me out. Such judgments, founded upon experience, when utteredhave all the character of prophecy about them. I, therefore, nowprophecy to you that Charles Holland will yet be so stung with horror atthe circumstance of a vampyre visiting Flora, that he will never makeher his wife. "

"Marchdale, I differ from you most completely, " said Henry. "I know thatCharles Holland is the very soul of honour. "

"I cannot argue the matter with you. It has not become a thing of fact. I have only sincerely to hope that I am wrong. "

"You are, you may depend, entirely wrong. I cannot be deceived inCharles. From you such words produce no effect but one of regret thatyou should so much err in your estimate of any one. From any one butyourself they would have produced in me a feeling of anger I might havefound it difficult to smother. "

"It has often been my misfortune through life, " said Mr. Marchdale, sadly, "to give the greatest offence where I feel the truest friendship, because it is in such quarters that I am always tempted to speak toofreely. "

"Nay, no offence, " said Henry. "I am distracted, and scarcely know whatI say. Marchdale, I know you are my sincere friend--but, as I tell you, I am nearly mad. "

"My dear Henry, be calmer. Consider upon what is to be said concerningthis interview at home. "

"Ay; that is a consideration. "

"I should not think it advisable to mention the disagreeable fact, thatin your neighbour you think you have found out the nocturnal disturberof your family. "

"No--no. "

"I would say nothing of it. It is not at all probable that, after whatyou have said to him this Sir Francis Varney, or whatever his real namemay be will obtrude himself upon you. "

"If he should he die. "

"He will, perhaps, consider that such a step would be dangerous to him. "

"It would be fatal, so help me. However, and then would I take especialcare that no power of resuscitation should ever enable that man again towalk the earth. "

"They say that only way of destroying a vampyre is to fix him to theearth with a stake, so that he cannot move, and then, of course, decomposition will take its course, as in ordinary cases. "

"Fire would consume him, and be a quicker process, " said Henry. "Butthese are fearful reflections, and, for the present, we will not pursuethem. Now to play the hypocrite, and endeavour to look composed andserene to my mother, and to Flora while my heart is breaking. "

The two friends had by this time reached the hall, and leaving hisfriend Marchdale, Henry Bannerworth, with feelings of the mostunenviable description, slowly made his way to the apartment occupied byhis mother and sister. 

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XV. 

THE OLD ADMIRAL AND HIS SERVANT. --THE COMMUNICATION FROM THE LANDLORD OFTHE NELSON'S ARMS. 

[Illustration]

While those matters of most grave and serious import were going on atthe Hall, while each day, and almost each hour in each day, wasproducing more and more conclusive evidence upon a matter which at firsthad seemed too monstrous to be at all credited, it may well be supposedwhat a wonderful sensation was produced among the gossip-mongers of theneighbourhood by the exaggerated reports that had reached them. 

The servants, who had left the Hall on no other account, as theydeclared, but sheer fright at the awful visits of the vampyre, spreadthe news far and wide, so that in the adjoining villages andmarket-towns the vampyre of Bannerworth Hall became quite a staplearticle of conversation. 

Such a positive godsend for the lovers of the marvellous had notappeared in the country side within the memory of that sapientindividual--the oldest inhabitant. 

And, moreover, there was one thing which staggered some people of bettereducation and maturer judgments, and that was, that the more they tookpains to inquire into the matter, in order, if possible, to put an endto what they considered a gross lie from the commencement, the moreevidence they found to stagger their own senses upon the subject. 

Everywhere then, in every house, public as well as private, somethingwas being continually said of the vampyre. Nursery maids began to thinka vampyre vastly superior to "old scratch and old bogie" as a means ofterrifying their infant charges into quietness, if not to sleep, untilthey themselves became too much afraid upon the subject to mention it. 

But nowhere was gossiping carried on upon the subject with moresystematic fervour than at an inn called the Nelson's Arms, which was inthe high street of the nearest market town to the Hall. 

There, it seemed as if the lovers of the horrible made a point ofholding their head quarters, and so thirsty did the numerous discussionsmake the guests, that the landlord was heard to declare that he, fromhis heart, really considered a vampyre as very nearly equal to acontested election. 

It was towards evening of the same day that Marchdale and Henry madetheir visit to Sir Francis Varney, that a postchaise drew up to the innwe have mentioned. In the vehicle were two persons of exceedinglydissimilar appearance and general aspect. 

One of these people was a man who seemed fast verging upon seventy yearsof age, although, from his still ruddy and embrowned complexion andstentorian voice, it was quite evident he intended yet to keep time atarm's-length for many years to come. 

He was attired in ample and expensive clothing, but every article had anaval animus about it, it we may be allowed such an expression withregard to clothing. On his buttons was an anchor, and the generalassortment and colour of the clothing as nearly assimilated as possibleto the undress naval uniform of an officer of high rank some fifty orsixty years ago. 

His companion was a younger man, and about his appearance there was nosecret at all. He was a genuine sailor, and he wore the shore costume ofone. He was hearty-looking, and well dressed, and evidently well fed. 

As the chaise drove up to the door of the inn, this man made anobservation to the other to the following effect, --

"A-hoy!"

"Well, you lubber, what now?" cried the other. 

"They call this the Nelson's Arms; and you know, shiver me, that for thebest half of his life he had but one. "

"D--n you!" was the only rejoinder he got for this observation; but, with that, he seemed very well satisfied. 

"Heave to!" he then shouted to the postilion, who was about to drive thechaise into the yard. "Heave to, you lubberly son of a gun! we don'twant to go into dock. "

"Ah!" said the old man, "let's get out, Jack. This is the port; and, doyou hear, and be cursed to you, let's have no swearing, d--n you, norbad language, you lazy swab. "

"Aye, aye, " cried Jack; "I've not been ashore now a matter o' ten years, and not larnt a little shore-going politeness, admiral, I ain't beenyour _walley de sham_ without larning a little about land reckonings. Nobody would take me for a sailor now, I'm thinking, admiral. "

"Hold your noise!"

"Aye, aye, sir. "

Jack, as he was called, bundled out of the chaise when the door wasopened, with a movement so closely resembling what would have ensued hadhe been dragged out by the collar, that one was tempted almost tobelieve that such a feat must have been accomplished all at once by someinvisible agency. 

He then assisted the old gentleman to alight, and the landlord of theinn commenced the usual profusion of bows with which a passenger by apostchaise is usually welcomed in preference to one by a stage coach. 

"Be quiet, will you!" shouted the admiral, for such indeed he was. "Bequiet. "

"Best accommodation, sir--good wine--well-aired beds--goodattendance--fine air--"

"Belay there, " said Jack; and he gave the landlord what no doubt heconsidered a gentle admonition, but which consisted of such a dig in theribs, that he made as many evolutions as the clown in a pantomime whenhe vociferates hot codlings. 

"Now, Jack, where's the sailing instructions?" said his master. 

"Here, sir, in the locker, " said Jack, a he took from his pocket aletter, which he handed to the admiral. 

"Won't you step in, sir?" said the landlord, who had begun now torecover a little from the dig in the ribs. 

"What's the use of coming into port and paying harbour dues, and allthat sort of thing, till we know if it's the right, you lubber, eh?"

"No; oh, dear me, sir, of course--God bless me, what can the oldgentleman mean?"

The admiral opened the letter, and read:--

 "If you stop at the Nelson's Aims at Uxotter, you will hear of me, and I can be sent for, when I will tell you more. 

 "Yours, very obediently and humbly, "JOSIAH CRINKLES. "

"Who the deuce is he?"

"This is Uxotter, sir, " said the landlord; "and here you are, sir, atthe Nelson's Arms. Good beds--good wine--good--"

"Silence!"

"Yes, sir--oh, of course"

"Who the devil is Josiah Crinkles?"

"Ha! ha! ha! ha! Makes me laugh, sir. Who the devil indeed! They do saythe devil and lawyers, sir, know something of each other--makes mesmile. "

"I'll make you smile on the other side of that d----d great hatchway ofa mouth of yours in a minute. Who is Crinkles?"

"Oh, Mr. Crinkles, sir, everybody knows, most respectable attorney, sir, indeed, highly respectable man, sir. "

"A lawyer?"

"Yes, sir, a lawyer. "

"Well, I'm d----d!"

Jack gave a long whistle, and both master and man looked at each otheraghast. 

"Now, hang me!" cried the admiral, "if ever I was so taken in in all mylife. "

"Ay, ay, sir, " said Jack. 

"To come a hundred and seventy miles see a d----d swab of a rascallylawyer. "

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"I'll smash him--Jack!"

"Yer honour?"

"Get into the chaise again. "

"Well, but where's Master Charles? Lawyers, in course, sir, is allblessed rogues; but, howsomdever, he may have for once in his life thishere one of 'em have told us of the right channel, and if so be as hehas, don't be the Yankee to leave him among the pirates. I'm ashamed onyou. "

"You infernal scoundrel; how dare you preach to me in such a way, youlubberly rascal?"

"Cos you desarves it. "

"Mutiny--mutiny--by Jove! Jack, I'll have you put in irons--you're ascoundrel, and no seaman. "

"No seaman!--no seaman!"

"Not a bit of one. "

"Very good. It's time, then, as I was off the purser's books. Good byeto you; I only hopes as you may get a better seaman to stick to you andbe your _walley de sham_ nor Jack Pringle, that's all the harm I wishyou. You didn't call me no seaman in the Bay of Corfu, when the bulletswere scuttling our nobs. "

"Jack, you rascal, give us your fin. Come here, you d----d villain. You'll leave me, will you?"

"Not if I know it. "

"Come in, then"

"Don't tell me I'm no seaman. Call me a wagabone if you like, but don'thurt my feelings. There I'm as tender as a baby, I am. --Don't do it. "

"Confound you, who is doing it?"

"The devil. "

"Who is?"

"Don't, then. "

Thus wrangling, they entered the inn, to the great amusement of severalbystanders, who had collected to hear the altercation between them. 

"Would you like a private room, sir?" said the landlord. 

"What's that to you?" said Jack. 

"Hold your noise, will you?" cried his master. "Yes, I should like aprivate room, and some grog. "

"Strong as the devil!" put in Jack. 

"Yes, sir-yes, sir. Good wines--good beds--good--"

"You said all that before, you know, " remarked Jack, as he bestowed uponthe landlord another terrific dig in the ribs. 

"Hilloa!" cried the admiral, "you can send for that infernal lawyer, Mister Landlord. "

"Mr. Crinkles, sir?"

"Yes, yes. "

"Who may I have the honour to say, sir, wants to see him?"

"Admiral Bell. "

"Certainly, admiral, certainly. You'll find him a very conversible, nice, gentlemanly little man, sir. "

"And tell him as Jack Pringle is here, too, " cried the seaman. 

"Oh, yes, yes--of course, " said the landlord, who was in such a state ofconfusion from the digs in the ribs he had received and the noise hisguests had already made in his house, that, had he been suddenly putupon his oath, he would scarcely have liked to say which was the masterand which was the man. 

"The idea now, Jack, " said the admiral, "of coming all this way to see alawyer. "

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"If he'd said he was a lawyer, we would have known what to do. But it'sa take in, Jack. "

"So I think. Howsomdever, we'll serve him out when we catch him, youknow. "

"Good--so we will. "

"And, then, again, he may know something about Master Charles, sir, youknow. Lord love him, don't you remember when he came aboard to see youonce at Portsmouth?"

"Ah! I do, indeed. "

"And how he said he hated the French, and quite a baby, too. Whatperseverance and sense. 'Uncle, ' says he to you, 'when I'm a big man, I'll go in a ship, and fight all the French in a heap, ' says he. 'Andbeat 'em, my boy, too, ' says you; cos you thought he'd forgot that; andthen he says, 'what's the use of saying that, stupid?--don't we alwaysbeat 'em?'"

The admiral laughed and rubbed his hands, as he cried aloud, --

"I remember, Jack--I remember him. I was stupid to make such a remark. "

"I know you was--a d----d old fool I thought you. "

"Come, come. Hilloa, there!"

"Well, then, what do you call me no seaman for?"

"Why, Jack, you bear malice like a marine. "

"There you go again. Goodbye. Do you remember when we were yard arm toyard arm with those two Yankee frigates, and took 'em both! You didn'tcall me a marine then, when the scuppers were running with blood. Was Ia seaman then?"

"You were, Jack--you were; and you saved my life. "

"I didn't. "

"You did. "

"I say I didn't--it was a marlin-spike. "

"But I say you did, you rascally scoundrel. --I say you did, and I won'tbe contradicted in my own ship. "

"Call this your ship?"

"No, d--n it--I--"

"Mr. Crinkles, " said the landlord, flinging the door wide open, and soat once putting an end to the discussion which always apparently had atendency to wax exceedingly warm. 

"The shark, by G--d!" said Jack. 

A little, neatly dressed man made his appearance, and advanced rathertimidly into the room. Perhaps he had heard from the landlord that theparties who had sent for him were of rather a violent sort. 

"So you are Crinkles, are you?" cried the admiral. "Sit down, though youare a lawyer. "

"Thank you, sir. I am an attorney, certainly, and my name as certainlyis Crinkles. "

"Look at that. "

The admiral placed the letter in the little lawyer's hands, who said, --

"Am I to read it?"

"Yes, to be sure. "

"Aloud?"

"Read it to the devil, if you like, in a pig's whisper, or a West Indiahurricane. "

"Oh, very good, sir. I--I am willing to be agreeable, so I'll read italoud, if it's all the same to you. "

He then opened the letter, and read as follows:--

 "To Admiral Bell. 

 "Admiral, --Being, from various circumstances, aware that you take a warm and a praiseworthy interest in your nephew, Charles Holland, I venture to write to you concerning a matter in which your immediate and active co-operation with others may rescue him from a condition which will prove, if allowed to continue, very much to his detriment, and ultimate unhappiness. 

 "You are, then, hereby informed, that he, Charles Holland, has, much earlier than he ought to have done, returned to England, and that the object of his return is to contract a marriage into a family in every way objectionable, and with a girl who is highly objectionable. 

 "You, admiral, are his nearest and almost his only relative in the world; you are the guardian of his property, and, therefore, it becomes a duty on your part to interfere to save him from the ruinous consequences of a marriage, which is sure to bring ruin and distress upon himself and all who take an interest in his welfare. 

 "The family he wishes to marry into is named Bannerworth, and the young lady's name is Flora Bannerworth. When, however, I inform you that a vampyre is in that family, and that if he marries into it, he marries a vampyre, and will have vampyres for children, I trust I have said enough to warn you upon the subject, and to induce you to lose no time in repairing to the spot. 

 "If you stop at the Nelson's Arms at Uxotter, you will hear of me. I can be sent for, when I will tell you more. 

 "Yours, very obediently and humbly, "JOSIAH CRINKLES. "

 "P. S. I enclose you Dr. Johnson's definition of a vampyre, which is as follows:

 "VAMPYRE (a German blood-sucker)--by which you perceive how many vampyres, from time immemorial, must have been well entertained at the expense of John Bull, at the court of St. James, where no thing hardly is to be met with but German blood-suckers. "

[Illustration]

 * * * * *

The lawyer ceased to read, and the amazed look with which he glanced atthe face of Admiral Bell would, under any other circumstances, have muchamused him. His mind, however, was by far too much engrossed with aconsideration of the danger of Charles Holland, his nephew, to be amusedat anything; so, when he found that the little lawyer said nothing, hebellowed out, --

"Well, sir?"

"We--we--well, " said the attorney. 

"I've sent for you, and here you are, and here I am, and here's JackPringle. What have you got to say?"

"Just this much, " said Mr. Crinkles, recovering himself a little, "justthis much, sir, that I never saw that letter before in all my life. "

"You--never--saw--it?"

"Never. "

"Didn't you write it?"

"On my solemn word of honour, sir, I did not. "

Jack Pringle whistled, and the admiral looked puzzled. Like the admiralin the song, too, he "grew paler, " and then Mr. Crinkles added, --

"Who has forged my name to a letter such as this, I cannot imagine. Asfor writing to you, sir, I never heard of your existence, exceptpublicly, as one of those gallant officers who have spent a long life innobly fighting their country's battles, and who are entitled to theadmiration and the applause of every Englishman. "

Jack and the admiral looked at each other in amazement, and then thelatter exclaimed, --

"What! This from a lawyer?"

"A lawyer, sir, " said Crinkles, "may know how to appreciate the deeds ofgallant men, although he may not be able to imitate them. That letter, sir, is a forgery, and I now leave you, only much gratified at theincident which has procured me the honour of an interview with agentleman, whose name will live in the history of his country. Good day, sir! Good day!"

"No! I'm d----d if you go like that, " said Jack, as he sprang to thedoor, and put his back against it. "You shall take a glass with me inhonour of the wooden walls of Old England, d----e, if you was twentylawyers. "

"That's right, Jack, " said the admiral. "Come, Mr. Crinkles, I'll think, for your sake, there may be two decent lawyers in the world, and you oneof them. We must have a bottle of the best wine the ship--I mean thehouse--can afford together. "

"If it is your command, admiral, I obey with pleasure, " said theattorney; "and although I assure you, on my honour, I did not write thatletter, yet some of the matters mentioned in it are so generallynotorious here, that I can afford you information concerning them. "

"Can you?"

"I regret to say I can, for I respect the parties. "

"Sit down, then--sit down. Jack, run to the steward's room and get thewine. We will go into it now starboard and larboard. Who the deuce couldhave written that letter?"

"I have not the least idea, sir. "

"Well--well, never mind; it has brought me here, that's something, so Iwon't grumble much at it. I didn't know my nephew was in England, and Idare say he didn't know I was; but here we both are, and I won't resttill I've seen him, and ascertained how the what's-its-name--"

"The vampyre. "

"Ah! the vampyre. "

"Shiver my timbers!" said Jack Pringle, who now brought in some winemuch against the remonstrances of the waiters of the establishment, whoconsidered that he was treading upon their vested interests by sodoing. --"Shiver my timbers, if I knows what a _wamphigher_ is, unlesshe's some distant relation to Davy Jones!"

"Hold your ignorant tongue, " said the admiral; "nobody wants you to makea remark, you great lubber!"

"Very good, " said Jack, and he sat down the wine on the table, and thenretired to the other end of the room, remarking to himself that he wasnot called a great lubber on a certain occasion, when bullets werescuttling their nobs, and they were yard arm and yard arm with God knowswho. 

"Now, mister lawyer, " said Admiral Bell, who had about him a large shareof the habits of a rough sailor. "Now, mister lawyer, here is a glassfirst to our better acquaintance, for d----e, if I don't like you!"

"You are very good, sir. "

"Not at all. There was a time, when I'd just as soon have thought ofasking a young shark to supper with me in my own cabin as a lawyer, butI begin to see that there may be such a thing as a decent, good sort ofa fellow seen in the law; so here's good luck to you, and you shallnever want a friend or a bottle while Admiral Bell has a shot in thelocker. "

"Gammon, " said Jack. 

"D--n you, what do you mean by that?" roared the admiral, in a furioustone. 

"I wasn't speaking to you, " shouted Jack, about two octaves higher. "It's two boys in the street as is pretending they're a going to fight, and I know d----d well they won't. "

"Hold your noise. "

"I'm going. I wasn't told to hold my noise, when our nobs were beingscuttled off Beyrout. "

"Never mind him, mister lawyer, " added the admiral. "He don't know whathe's talking about. Never mind him. You go on and tell me all you knowabout the--the--"

"The vampyre!"

"Ah! I always forget the names of strange fish. I suppose, after all, it's something of the mermaid order?"

"That I cannot say, sir; but certainly the story, in all its painfulparticulars, has made a great sensation all over the country. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, sir. You shall hear how it occurred. It appears that one nightMiss Flora Bannersworth, a young lady of great beauty, and respected andadmired by all who knew her was visited by a strange being who came inat the window. "

"My eye, " said Jack, "it waren't me, I wish it had a been. "

"So petrified by fear was she, that she had only time to creep half outof the bed, and to utter one cry of alarm, when the strange visitorseized her in his grasp. "

"D--n my pig tail, " said Jack, "what a squall there must have been, tobe sure. "

"Do you see this bottle?" roared the admiral. 

"To be sure, I does; I think as it's time I seed another. "

"You scoundrel, I'll make you feel it against that d----d stupid head ofyours, if you interrupt this gentleman again. "

"Don't be violent. "

"Well, as I was saying, " continued the attorney, "she did, by great goodfortune, manage to scream, which had the effect of alarming the wholehouse. The door of her chamber, which was fast, was broken open. "

"Yes, yes--"

"Ah, " cried Jack. 

"You may imagine the horror and the consternation of those who enteredthe room to find her in the grasp of a fiend-like figure, whose teethwere fastened on her neck, and who was actually draining her veins ofblood. "

"The devil!"

"Before any one could lay hands sufficiently upon the figure to detainit, it had fled precipitately from its dreadful repast. Shots were firedafter it in vain. "

"And they let it go?"

"They followed it, I understand, as well as they were able, and saw itscale the garden wall of the premises; there it escaped, leaving, as youmay well imagine, on all their minds, a sensation of horror difficult todescribe. "

"Well, I never did hear anything the equal of that. Jack, what do youthink of it?"

"I haven't begun to think, yet, " said Jack. 

"But what about my nephew, Charles?" added the admiral. 

"Of him I know nothing. "

"Nothing?"

"Not a word, admiral. I was not aware you had a nephew, or that anygentleman bearing that, or any other relationship to you, had any sortof connexion with these mysterious and most unaccountable circumstances. I tell you all I have gathered from common report about this vampyrebusiness. Further I know not, I assure you. "

"Well, a man can't tell what he don't know. It puzzles me to think whocould possibly have written me this letter. "

"That I am completely at a loss to imagine, " said Crinkles. "I assureyou, my gallant sir, that I am much hurt at the circumstance of any oneusing my name in such a way. But, nevertheless, as you are here, permitme to say, that it will be my pride, my pleasure, and the boast of theremainder of my existence, to be of some service to so gallant adefender of my country, and one whose name, along with the memory of hisdeeds, is engraved upon the heart of every Briton. "

"Quite ekal to a book, he talks, " said Jack. "I never could read onemyself, on account o' not knowing how, but I've heard 'em read, andthat's just the sort o' incomprehensible gammon. "

"We don't want any of your ignorant remarks, " said the admiral, "so yoube quiet. "

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"Now, Mister Lawyer, you are an honest fellow, and an honest fellow isgenerally a sensible fellow. "

"Sir, I thank you. "

"If so be as what this letter says is true, my nephew Charles has got aliking for this girl, who has had her neck bitten by a vampyre, yousee. "

"I perceive, sir. "

"Now what would you do?"

"One of the most difficult, as well, perhaps, as one of the mostungracious of tasks, " said the attorney, "is to interfere with familyaffairs. The cold and steady eye of reason generally sees things in suchvery different lights to what they appear to those whose feelings andwhose affections are much compromised in their results. "

"Very true. Go on. "

"Taking, my dear sir, what in my humble judgment appears to be areasonable view of this subject, I should say it would be a dreadfulthing for your nephew to marry into a family any member of which wasliable to the visitations of a vampyre. "

"It wouldn't be pleasant. "

"The young lady might have children. "

"Oh, lots, " cried Jack. 

"Hold your noise, Jack. "

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"And she might herself actually, when after death she became a vampyre, come and feed on her own children. "

"Become a vampyre! What, is she going to be a vampyre too?"

"My dear sir, don't you know that it is a remarkable fact, as regardsthe physiology of vampyres, that whoever is bitten by one of thosedreadful beings, becomes a vampyre?"

"The devil!"

"It is a fact, sir. "

"Whew!" whistled Jack; "she might bite us all, and we should be a wholeship's crew o' _wamphighers_. There would be a confounded go!"

"It's not pleasant, " said the admiral, as he rose from his chair, andpaced to and fro in the room, "it's not pleasant. Hang me up at my ownyard-arm if it is. "

"Who said it was?" cried Jack. 

"Who asked you, you brute?"

"Well, sir, " added Mr. Crinkles, "I have given you all the information Ican; and I can only repeat what I before had the honour of saying moreat large, namely, that I am your humble servant to command, and that Ishall be happy to attend upon you at any time. "

"Thank ye--thank ye, Mr. --a--a--"

"Crinkles. "

"Ah, Crinkles. You shall hear from me again, sir, shortly. Now that I amdown here, I will see to the very bottom of this affair, were it deeperthan fathom ever sounded. Charles Holland was my poor sister's son; he'sthe only relative I have in the wide world, and his happiness is dearerto my heart than my own. "

Crinkles turned aside, and, by the twinkle of his eyes, one mightpremise that the honest little lawyer was much affected. 

"God bless you, sir, " he said; "farewell. "

"Good day to you. "

"Good-bye, lawyer, " cried Jack. "Mind how you go. D--n me, if you don'tseem a decent sort of fellow, and, after all, you may give the devil aclear berth, and get into heaven's straits with a flowing sheet, provided as you don't, towards the end of the voyage, make any lubberlyblunders. "

The old admiral threw himself into a chair with a deep sigh. 

"Jack, " said he. 

"Aye, aye, sir. "

"What's to be done now?"

Jack opened the window to discharge the superfluous moisture from anenormous quid he had indulged himself with while the lawyer was tellingabout the vampyre, and then again turning his face towards his master, he said, --

"Do! What shall we do? Why, go at once and find out Charles, our _nevy_, and ask him all about it, and see the young lady, too, and lay hold o'the _wamphigher_ if we can, as well, and go at the whole affairbroadside to broadside, till we make a prize of all the particulars, after which we can turn it over in our minds agin, and see what's to bedone. "

"Jack, you are right. Come along. "

"I knows I am. Do you know now which way to steer?"

"Of course not. I never was in this latitude before, and the channellooks intricate. We will hail a pilot, Jack, and then we shall be allright, and if we strike it will be his fault. "

"Which is a mighty great consolation, " said Jack. "Come along. "

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS IN THE GARDEN. --AN AFFECTING SCENE. --THESUDDEN APPEARANCE OF SIR FRANCIS VARNEY. 

[Illustration]

Our readers will recollect that Flora Bannerworth had made anappointment with Charles Holland in the garden of the hall. This meetingwas looked forward to by the young man with a variety of conflictingfeelings, and he passed the intermediate time in a most painful state ofdoubt as to what would be its result. 

The thought that he should be much urged by Flora to give up allthoughts of making her his, was a most bitter one to him, who loved herwith so much truth and constancy, and that she would say all she couldto induce such a resolution in his mind he felt certain. But to him theidea of now abandoning her presented itself in the worst of aspects. 

"Shall I, " he said, "sink so low in my own estimation, as well as inhers, and in that of all honourable-minded persons, as to desert her nowin the hour of affliction? Dare I be so base as actually or virtually tosay to her, 'Flora, when your beauty was undimmed by sorrow--when allaround you seemed life and joy, I loved you selfishly for the increasedhappiness which you might bestow upon me; but now the hand of misfortunepresses heavily upon you--you are not what you were, and I desert you?Never--never--never!"

Charles Holland, it will be seen by some of our more philosophicneighbours, felt more acutely than he reasoned; but let his errors ofargumentation be what they may, can we do other than admire the nobilityof soul which dictated such a self denying generous course as that hewas pursuing?

As for Flora, Heaven only knows if at that precise time her intellecthad completely stood the test of the trying events which had nearlyoverwhelmed it. 

The two grand feelings that seemed to possess her mind were fear of therenewed visit of the vampyre, and an earnest desire to release CharlesHolland from his repeated vows of constancy towards her. 

Feeling, generosity, and judgment, all revolted holding a young man tosuch a destiny as hers. To link him to her fate, would be to make him toa real extent a sharer in it, and the more she heard fall from his lipsin the way of generous feelings of continued attachment to her, the moreseverely did she feel that he would suffer most acutely if united toher. 

And she was right. The very generosity of feeling which would have nowprompted Charles Holland to lead Flora Bannerworth to the altar, evenwith the marks of the vampyre's teeth upon her throat, gave an assuranceof a depth of feeling which would have made him an ample haven in allher miseries, in all her distresses and afflictions. 

What was familiarly in the family at the Hall called the garden, was asemicircular piece of ground shaded in several directions by trees, andwhich was exclusively devoted to the growth of flowers. The piece ofground was nearly hidden from the view of the house, and in its centrewas a summer-house, which at the usual season of the year was coveredwith all kinds of creeping plants of exquisite perfumes, and rarebeauty. All around, too, bloomed the fairest and sweetest of flowers, which a rich soil and a sheltered situation could produce. 

Alas! though, of late many weeds had straggled up among their moreestimable floral culture, for the decayed fortunes of the family hadprevented them from keeping the necessary servants, to place the Halland its grounds in a state of neatness, such as it had once been thepride of the inhabitants of the place to see them. It was then in thisflower-garden that Charles and Flora used to meet. 

As may be supposed, he was on the spot before the appointed hour, anxiously expecting the appearance of her who was so really and trulydear to him. What to him were the sweet flowers that there grew in suchhappy luxuriance and heedless beauty? Alas, the flower that to his mindwas fairer than them all, was blighted, and in the wan cheek of her whomhe loved, he sighed to see the lily usurping the place of the radiantrose. 

"Dear, dear Flora, " he ejaculated, "you must indeed be taken from thisplace, which is so full of the most painful remembrance; now, I cannotthink that Mr. Marchdale somehow is a friend to me, but that conviction, or rather impression, does not paralyze my judgment sufficiently toinduce me not to acknowledge that his advice is good. He might havecouched it in pleasanter words--words that would not, like daggers, eachhave brought a deadly pang home to my heart, but still I do think thatin his conclusion he was right. "

A light sound, as of some fairy footstep among the flowers, came uponhis ears, and turning instantly to the direction from whence the soundproceeded, he saw what his heart had previously assured him of, namely, that it was his Flora who was coming. 

[Illustration]

Yes, it was she; but, ah, how pale, how wan--how languid and full of theevidences of much mental suffering was she. Where now was the elasticityof that youthful step? Where now was that lustrous beaming beauty ofmirthfulness, which was wont to dawn in those eyes?

Alas, all was changed. The exquisite beauty of form was there, but thelight of joy which had lent its most transcendent charms to thatheavenly face, was gone. Charles was by her side in a moment. He had herhand clasped in his, while his disengaged one was wound tenderly aroundher taper waist. 

"Flora, dear, dear Flora, " he said, "you are better. Tell me that youfeel the gentle air revives you?"

She could not speak. Her heart was too full of woe. 

"Oh; Flora, my own, my beautiful, " he added, in those tones which comeso direct from the heart, and which are so different from any assumptionof tenderness. "Speak to me, dear, dear Flora--speak to me if it be buta word. "

"Charles, " was all she could say, and then she burst into a flood oftears, and leant so heavily upon his arm, that it was evident but forthat support she must have fallen. 

Charles Holland welcomed those, although, they grieved him so much thathe could have accompanied them with his own, but then he knew that shewould be soon now more composed, and that they would relieve the heartwhose sorrows called them into existence. 

He forbore to speak to her until he found this sudden gush of feelingwas subsiding into sobs, and then in low, soft accents, he againendeavoured to breathe comfort to her afflicted and terrified spirit. 

"My Flora, " he said, "remember that there are warm hearts that love you. Remember that neither time nor circumstance can change such endearingaffection as mine. Ah, Flora, what evil is there in the whole world thatlove may not conquer, and in the height of its noble feelings laugh toscorn. "

"Oh, hush, hush, Charles, hush. "

"Wherefore, Flora, would you still the voice of pure affection? I loveyou surely, as few have ever loved. Ah, why would you forbid me to givesuch utterance as I may to those feelings which fill up my whole heart?"

"No--no--no. "

"Flora, Flora, wherefore do you say no?"

"Do not, Charles, now speak to me of affection or love. Do not tell meyou love me now. "

"Not tell you I love you! Ah, Flora, if my tongue, with its pooreloquence to give utterance to such a sentiment, were to do its office, each feature of my face would tell the tale. Each action would show toall the world how much I loved you. "

"I must not now hear this. Great God of Heaven give me strength to carryout the purpose of my soul. "

"What purpose is it, Flora, that you have to pray thus fervently forstrength to execute? Oh, if it savour aught of treason against love'smajesty, forget it. Love is a gift from Heaven. The greatest and themost glorious gift it ever bestowed upon its creatures. Heaven will notaid you in repudiating that which is the one grand redeeming featurethat rescues human nature from a world of reproach. "

Flora wrung her hands despairingly as she said, --

"Charles, I know I cannot reason with you. I know I have not power oflanguage, aptitude of illustration, nor depth of thought to hold amental contention with you. "

"Flora, for what do I contend?"

"You, you speak of love. "

"And I have, ere this, spoken to you of love unchecked. "

"Yes, yes. Before this. "

"And now, wherefore not now? Do not tell me you are changed. "

"I am changed, Charles. Fearfully changed. The curse of God has fallenupon me, I know not why. I know not that in word or in thought I havedone evil, except perchance unwittingly, and yet--the vampyre. "

"Let not that affright you. "

"Affright me! It has killed me. "

"Nay, Flora, --you think too much of what I still hope to be susceptibleof far more rational explanation. "

"By your own words, then, Charles, I must convict you. I cannot, I darenot be yours, while such a dreadful circumstance is hanging over me, Charles; if a more rational explanation than the hideous one which myown fancy gives to the form that visits me can be found, find it, andrescue me from despair and from madness. "

They had now reached the summer-house, and as Flora uttered these wordsshe threw herself on to a seat, and covering her beautiful face with herhands, she sobbed convulsively. 

"You have spoken, " said Charles, dejectedly. "I have heard that whichyou wished to say to me. "

"No, no. Not all, Charles. "

"I will be patient, then, although what more you may have to add shouldtear my very heart-strings. "

"I--I have to add, Charles, " she said, in a tremulous voice, "thatjustice, religion, mercy--every human attribute which bears the name ofvirtue, calls loudly upon me no longer to hold you to vows made underdifferent auspices. "

"Go on, Flora. "

"I then implore you, Charles, finding me what I am, to leave me to thefate which it has pleased Heaven to cast upon me. I do not ask you, Charles, not to love me. "

"'Tis well. Go on, Flora. "

"Because I should like to think that, although I might never see youmore, you loved me still. But you must think seldom of me, and you mustendeavour to be happy with some other--"

"You cannot, Flora, pursue the picture you yourself would draw. Thesewords come not from your heart. "

"Yes--yes--yes. "

"Did you ever love me?"

"Charles, Charles, why will you add another pang to those you know mustalready rend my heart?"

"No, Flora, I would tear my own heart from my bosom ere I would add onepang to yours. Well I know that gentle maiden modesty would seal yourlips to the soft confession that you loved me. I could not hope the joyof hearing you utter these words. The tender devoted lover is content tosee the truthful passion in the speaking eyes of beauty. Content is heto translate it from a thousand acts, which, to eyes that look not soacutely as a lover's, bear no signification; but when you tell me toseek happiness with another, well may the anxious question burst from mythrobbing heart of, 'Did you ever love me, Flora?'"

Her senses hung entranced upon his words. Oh, what a witchery is in thetongue of love. Some even of the former colour of her cheek returned asforgetting all for the moment but that she was listening to the voice ofhim, the thoughts of whom had made up the day dream of her happiness, she gazed upon his face. 

His voice ceased. To her it seemed as if some music had suddenly leftoff in its most exquisite passage. She clung to his arm--she lookedimploringly up to him. Her head sunk upon his breast as she cried, "Charles, Charles, I did love you. I do love you now. "

"Then let sorrow and misfortune shake their grisly locks in vain, " hecried. "Heart to heart--hand to hand with me, defy them. "

He lifted up his arms towards Heaven as he spoke, and at the moment camesuch a rattling peal of thunder, that the very earth seemed to shakeupon its axis. 

A half scream of terror burst from the lips of Flora, as she cried, --

"What was that?"

"Only thunder, " said Charles, calmly. 

"'Twas an awful sound. "

"A natural one. "

"But at such a moment, when you were defying Fate to injure us. Oh!Charles, is it ominous?"

"Flora, can you really give way to such idle fancies?"

"The sun is obscured. "

"Ay, but it will shine all the brighter for its temporary eclipse. Thethunder-storm will clear the air of many noxious vapours; the forkedlightning has its uses as well as its powers of mischief. Hark! thereagain!"

Another peal, of almost equal intensity to the other, shook thefirmament. Flora trembled. 

"Charles, " she said, "this is the voice of Heaven. We must part--we mustpart for ever. I cannot be yours. "

"Flora, this is madness. Think again, dear Flora. Misfortunes for a timewill hover over the best and most fortunate of us; but, like the cloudsthat now obscure the sweet sunshine, will pass away, and leave no tracebehind them. The sunshine of joy will shine on you again. "

There was a small break in the clouds, like a window looking intoHeaven. From it streamed one beam of sunlight, so bright, so dazzling, and so beautiful, that it was a sight of wonder to look upon. It fellupon the face of Flora; it warmed her cheek; it lent lustre to her palelips and tearful eyes; it illumined that little summer-house as if ithad been the shrine of some saint. 

"Behold!" cried Charles, "where is your omen now?"

"God of Heaven!'" cried Flora; and she stretched out her arms. 

"The clouds that hover over your spirit now, " said Charles, "shall passaway. Accept this beam of sunlight as a promise from God. "

"I will--I will. It is going. "

"It has done its office. "

The clouds closed over the small orifice, and all was gloom again asbefore. 

"Flora, " said Charles, "you will not ask me now to leave you?"

She allowed him to clasp her to his heart. It was beating for her, andfor her only. 

"You will let me, Flora, love you still?"

Her voice, as she answered him, was like the murmur of some distantmelody the ears can scarcely translate to the heart. 

"Charles we will live, love, and die together. "

And now there was a wrapt stillness in that summer-house for manyminutes--a trance of joy. They did not speak, but now and then she wouldlook into his face with an old familiar smile, and the joy of his heartwas near to bursting in tears from his eyes. 

A shriek burst from Flora's lips--a shriek so wild and shrill that itawakened echoes far and near. Charles staggered back a step, as if shot, and then in such agonised accents as he was long indeed in banishing theremembrance of, she cried, --

"The vampyre! the vampyre!"

CHAPTER XVII. 

THE EXPLANATION. --THE ARRIVAL OF THE ADMIRAL AT THE HOUSE. --A SCENE OFCONFUSION, AND SOME OF ITS RESULTS. 

[Illustration]

So sudden and so utterly unexpected a cry of alarm from Flora, at such atime might well have the effect of astounding the nerves of any one, andno wonder that Charles was for a few seconds absolutely petrified andalmost unable to think. 

Mechanically, then, he turned his eyes towards the door of thesummer-house, and there he saw a tall, thin man, rather elegantlydressed, whose countenance certainly, in its wonderful resemblance tothe portrait on the panel, might well appal any one. 

The stranger stood in the irresolute attitude on the threshold of thesummer-house of one who did not wish to intrude, but who found it asawkward, if not more so now, to retreat than to advance. 

Before Charles Holland could summon any words to his aid, or think offreeing himself from the clinging grasp of Flora, which was wound aroundhim, the stranger made a very low and courtly bow, after which he said, in winning accents, --

"I very much fear that I am an intruder here. Allow me to offer mywarmest apologies, and to assure you, sir, and you, madam, that I had noidea any one was in the arbour. You perceive the rain is fallingsmartly, and I made towards here, seeing it was likely to shelter mefrom the shower. "

These words were spoken in such a plausible and courtly tone of voice, that they might well have become any drawing-room in the kingdom. 

Flora kept her eyes fixed upon him during the utterance of these words;and as she convulsively clutched the arm of Charles, she kept onwhispering, --

"The vampyre! the vampyre!"

"I much fear, " added the stranger, in the same bland tones, "that I havebeen the cause of some alarm to the young lady!"

"Release me, " whispered Charles to Flora. "Release me; I will follow himat once. "

"No, no--do not leave me--do not leave me. The vampyre--the dreadfulvampyre!"

"But, Flora--"

"Hush--hush--hush! It speaks again. "

"Perhaps I ought to account for my appearance in the garden at all, "added the insinuating stranger. "The fact is, I came on a visit--"

Flora shuddered. 

"To Mr. Henry Bannerworth, " continued the stranger; "and finding thegarden-gate open, I came in without troubling the servants, which I muchregret, as I can perceive I have alarmed and annoyed the lady. Madam, pray accept of my apologies. "

"In the name of God, who are you?" said Charles. 

"My name is Varney. "

"Oh, yes. You are the Sir Francis Varney, residing close by, who bearsso fearful a resemblance to--"

"Pray go on, sir. I am all attention. "

"To a portrait here. "

"Indeed! Now I reflect a moment, Mr. Henry Bannerworth did incidentallymention something of the sort. It's a most singular coincidence. "

The sound of approaching footsteps was now plainly heard, and in a fewmoments Henry and George, along with Mr. Marchdale, reached the spot. Their appearance showed that they had made haste, and Henry at onceexclaimed, --

"We heard, or fancied we heard, a cry of alarm. "

"You did hear it, " said Charles Holland. "Do you know this gentleman?"

"It is Sir Francis Varney. "

"Indeed!"

Varney bowed to the new comers, and was altogether as much at his easeas everybody else seemed quite the contrary. Even Charles Holland foundthe difficulty of going up to such a well-bred, gentlemanly man, andsaying, "Sir, we believe you to be a vampyre"--to be almost, if notinsurmountable. 

"I cannot do it, " he thought, "but I will watch him. "

"Take me away, " whispered Flora. "'Tis he--'tis he. Oh, take me away, Charles. "

"Hush, Flora, hush. You are in some error; the accidental resemblanceshould not make us be rude to this gentleman. "

"The vampyre!--it is the vampyre!"

"Are you sure, Flora?"

"Do I know your features--my own--my brother's? Do not ask me todoubt--I cannot. I am quite sure. Take me from his hideous presence, Charles. "

"The young lady, I fear, is very much indisposed, " remarked Sir FrancisVarney, in a sympathetic tone of voice. "If she will accept of my arm, Ishall esteem it a great honour. "

"No--no--no!--God! no, " cried Flora. 

"Madam, I will not press you. "

He bowed, and Charles led Flora from the summer-house towards the hall. 

"Flora, " he said, "I am bewildered--I know not what to think. That manmost certainly has been fashioned after the portrait which is on thepanel in the room you formerly occupied; or it has been painted fromhim. "

"He is my midnight visitor!" exclaimed Flora. "He is the vampyre;--thisSir Francis Varney is the vampyre. "

"Good God! What can be done?"

"I know not. I am nearly distracted. "

"Be calm, Flora. If this man be really what you name him, we now knowfrom what quarter the mischief comes, which is, at all events, a pointgained. Be assured we shall place a watch upon him. "

"Oh, it is terrible to meet him here. "

"And he is so wonderfully anxious, too, to possess the Hall. "

"He is--he is. "

"It looks strange, the whole affair. But, Flora, be assured of onething, and that is, of your own safety. "

"Can I be assured of that?"

"Most certainly. Go to your mother now. Here we are, you see, fairlywithin doors. Go to your mother, dear Flora, and keep yourself quiet. Iwill return to this mysterious man now with a cooler judgment than Ileft him. "

"You will watch him, Charles?"

"I will, indeed. "

"And you will not let him approach the house here alone?"

"I will not. "

"Oh, that the Almighty should allow such beings to haunt the earth!"

"Hush, Flora, hush! we cannot judge of his allwise purpose. "

'"Tis hard that the innocent should be inflicted with its presence. "

Charles bowed his head in mournful assent. 

[Illustration]

"Is it not very, very dreadful?"

"Hush--hush! Calm yourself, dearest, calm yourself. Recollect that allwe have to go upon in this matter is a resemblance, which, after all, may be accidental. But leave it all to me, and be assured that now Ihave some clue to this affair, I will not lose sight of it, or of SirFrancis Varney. "

So saying, Charles surrendered Flora to the care of her mother, and thenwas hastening back to the summer-house, when he met the whole partycoming towards the Hall, for the rain was each moment increasing inintensity. 

"We are returning, " remarked Sir Francis Varney, with a half bow and asmile, to Charles. 

"Allow me, " said Henry, "to introduce you, Mr. Holland, to ourneighbour, Sir Francis Varney. "

Charles felt himself compelled to behave with courtesy, although hismind was so full of conflicting feelings as regarded Varney; but therewas no avoiding, without such brutal rudeness as was inconsistent withall his pursuits and habits, replying in something like the same strainto the extreme courtly politeness of the supposed vampyre. 

"I will watch him closely, " thought Charles. "I can do no more thanwatch him closely. "

Sir Francis Varney seemed to be a man of the most general and discursiveinformation. He talked fluently and pleasantly upon all sorts of topics, and notwithstanding he could not but have heard what Flora had said ofhim, he asked no questions whatever upon that subject. 

This silence as regarded a matter which would at once have induced somesort of inquiry from any other man, Charles felt told much against him, and he trembled to believe for a moment that, after all, it really mightbe true. 

"Is he a vampyre?" he asked himself. "Are there vampyres, and is thisman of fashion--this courtly, talented, educated gentleman one?" It wasa perfectly hideous question. 

"You are charmingly situated here, " remarked Varney, as, after ascendingthe few steps that led to the hall door, he turned and looked at theview from that slight altitude. 

"The place has been much esteemed, " said Henry, "for its picturesquebeauties of scenery. "

"And well it may be. I trust, Mr. Holland, the young lady is muchbetter?"

"She is, sir, " said Charles. 

"I was not honoured by an introduction. "

"It was my fault, " said Henry, who spoke to his extraordinary guest withan air of forced hilarity. "It was my fault for not introducing you tomy sister. "

"And that was your sister?"

"It was, sir. "

"Report has not belied her--she is beautiful. But she looks rather pale, I thought. Has she bad health?"

"The best of health. "

"Indeed! Perhaps the little disagreeable circumstance, which is made somuch food for gossip in the neighbourhood, has affected her spirits?"

"It has. "

"You allude to the supposed visit here of a vampyre?" said Charles, ashe fixed his eyes upon Varney's face. 

"Yes, I allude to the supposed appearance of a supposed vampyre in thisfamily, " said Sir Francis Varney, as he returned the earnest gaze ofCharles, with such unshrinking assurance, that the young man wascompelled, after about a minute, nearly to withdraw his own eyes. 

"He will not be cowed, " thought Charles. "Use has made him familiar tosuch cross-questioning. "

It appeared now suddenly to occur to Henry that he had said something atVarney's own house which should have prevented him from coming to theHall, and he now remarked, --

"We scarcely expected the pleasure of your company here, Sir FrancisVarney. "

"Oh, my dear sir, I am aware of that; but you roused my curiosity. Youmentioned to me that there was a portrait here amazingly like me. "

"Did I?"

"Indeed you did, or how could I know it? I wanted to see if theresemblance was so perfect. "

"Did you hear, sir, " added Henry, "that my sister was alarmed at yourlikeness to that portrait?"

"No, really. "

"I pray you walk in, and we will talk more at large upon that matter. "

"With great pleasure. One leads a monotonous life in the country, whencompared with the brilliancy of a court existence. Just now I have noparticular engagement. As we are near neighbours I see no reason why weshould not be good friends, and often interchange such civilities asmake up the amenities of existence, and which, in the country, moreparticularly, are valuable. "

Henry could not be hypocrite enough to assent to this; but still, underthe present aspect of affairs, it was impossible to return any but acivil reply; so he said, --

"Oh, yes, of course--certainly. My time is very much occupied, and mysister and mother see no company. "

"Oh, now, how wrong. "

"Wrong, sir?"

"Yes, surely. If anything more than another tends to harmonizeindividuals, it is the society of that fairer half of the creation whichwe love for their very foibles. I am much attached to the softer sex--toyoung persons full of health. I like to see the rosy checks, where thewarm blood mantles in the superficial veins, and all is loveliness andlife. "

Charles shrank back, and the word "Demon" unconsciously escaped hislips. 

Sir Francis took no manner of notice of the expression, but went ontalking, as if he had been on the very happiest terms with every onepresent. 

"Will you follow me, at once, to the chamber where the portrait hangs, "said Henry, "or will you partake of some refreshment first?"

"No refreshment for me, " said Varney. "My dear friend, if you willpermit me to call you such, this is a time of the day at which I neverdo take any refreshment. "

"Nor at any other, " thought Henry. 

They all went to the chamber where Charles had passed one verydisagreeable night, and when they arrived, Henry pointed to the portraiton the panel, saying--

"There, Sir Francis Varney, is your likeness. "

He looked, and, having walked up to it, in an under tone, rather as ifhe were conversing with himself than making a remark for any one else tohear, he said--

"It is wonderfully like. "

"It is, indeed, " said Charles. 

"If I stand beside it, thus, " said Varney, placing himself in afavourable attitude for comparing the two faces, "I dare say you will bemore struck with the likeness than before. "

So accurate was it now, that the same light fell upon his face as thatunder which the painter had executed the portrait, that all started backa step or two. 

"Some artists, " remarked Varney, "have the sense to ask where a portraitis to be hung before they paint it, and then they adapt their lights andshadows to those which would fall upon the original, were it similarlysituated. "

"I cannot stand this, " said Charles to Henry; "I must question himfarther. "

"As you please, but do not insult him. "

"I will not. "

"He is beneath my roof now, and, after all, it is but a hideoussuspicion we have of him. "

"Rely upon me. "

Charles stepped forward, and once again confronting Varney, with anearnest gaze, he said--

"Do you know, sir, that Miss Bannerworth declares the vampyre shefancies to have visited this chamber to be, in features, the exactcounterpart of this portrait?"

"Does she indeed?"

"She does, indeed. "

"And perhaps, then, that accounts for her thinking that I am thevampyre, because I bear a strong resemblance to the portrait. "

"I should not be surprised, " said Charles. 

"How very odd. "

"Very. "

"And yet entertaining. I am rather amused than otherwise. The idea ofbeing a vampyre. Ha! ha! If ever I go to a masquerade again, I shallcertainly assume the character of a vampyre. "

"You would do it well. "

"I dare say, now, I should make quite a sensation. "

"I am certain you would. Do you not think, gentlemen, that Sir FrancisVarney would enact the character to the very life? By Heavens, he woulddo it so well that one might, without much difficulty, really imaginehim a vampyre. "

"Bravo--bravo, " said Varney, as he gently folded his hands together, with that genteel applause that may even be indulged in in a box at theopera itself. "Bravo. I like to see young persons enthusiastic; it looksas if they had some of the real fire of genius in their composition. Bravo--bravo. "

This was, Charles thought, the very height and acme of impudence, andyet what could he do? What could he say? He was foiled by the downrightcoolness of Varney. 

As for Henry, George, and Mr. Marchdale, they had listened to what waspassing between Sir Francis and Charles in silence. They feared todiminish the effect of anything Charles might say, by adding a word oftheir own; and, likewise, they did not wish to lose one observation thatmight come from the lips of Varney. 

But now Charles appeared to have said all he had to say, he turned tothe window and looked out. He seemed like a man who had made up hismind, for a time, to give up some contest in which he had been engaged. 

And, perhaps, not so much did he give it up from any feeling orconsciousness of being beaten, as from a conviction that it could be themore effectually, at some other and far more eligible opportunity, renewed. 

Varney now addressed Henry, saying, --

"I presume the subject of our conference, when you did me the honour ofa call, is no secret to any one here?"

"None whatever, " said Henry. 

"Then, perhaps, I am too early in asking you if you have made up yourmind?"

"I have scarcely, certainly, had time to think. "

"My dear sir, do not let me hurry you; I much regret, indeed, theintrusion. "

"You seem anxious to possess the Hall, " remarked Mr. Marchdale, toVarney. 

"I am. "

"Is it new to you?"

"Not quite. I have some boyish recollections connected with thisneighbourhood, among which Bannerworth Hall stands sufficientlyprominent. "

"May I ask how long ago that was?" said Charles Howard, rather abruptly. 

"I do not recollect, my enthusiastic young friend, " said Varney. "Howold are you?"

"Just about twenty-one. "

"You are, then, for your age, quite a model of discretion. "

It would have been difficult for the most accurate observer of humannature to have decided whether this was said truthfully or ironically, so Charles made no reply to it whatever. 

"I trust, " said Henry, "we shall induce you, as this is your firstvisit, Sir Francis Varney, to the Hall, to partake of some thing. "

"Well, well, a cup of wine--"

"Is at your service. "

Henry now led the way to a small parlour, which, although by no meansone of the showiest rooms of the house, was, from the care and exquisitecarving with which it abounded, much more to the taste of any whopossessed an accurate judgment in such works of art. 

Then wine was ordered, and Charles took an opportunity of whispering toHenry, --

"Notice well if he drinks. "

"I will. "

"Do you see that beneath his coat there is a raised place, as if his armwas bound up?"

"I do. "

"There, then, was where the bullet from the pistol fired by Flora, whenwe were at the church, hit him. "

"Hush! for God's sake, hush! you are getting into a dreadful state ofexcitement, Charles; hush! hush!"

"And can you blame--"

"No, no; but what can we do?"

"You are right. Nothing can we do at present. We have a clue now, and beit our mutual inclination, as well as duty, to follow it. Oh, you shallsee how calm I will be!"

"For Heaven's sake, be so. I have noted that his eyes flash upon yourswith no friendly feeling. "

"His friendship were a curse. "

"Hush! he drinks!"

"Watch him. "

"I will. "

"Gentlemen all, " said Sir Francis Varney, in such soft, dulcet tones, that it was quite a fascination to hear him speak; "gentlemen all, beingas I am, much delighted with your company, do not accuse me ofpresumption, if I drink now, poor drinker as I am, to our future merrymeetings. "

He raised the wine to his lips, and seemed to drink, after which hereplaced the glass upon the table. 

Charles glanced at it, it was still full. 

"You have not drank, Sir Francis Varney, " he said. 

"Pardon me, enthusiastic young sir, " said Varney, "perhaps you will havethe liberality to allow me to take my wine how I please and when Iplease. "

"Your glass is full. "

"Well, sir?"

"Will you drink it?"

"Not at any man's bidding, most certainly. If the fair Flora Bannerworthwould grace the board with her sweet presence, methinks I could thendrink on, on, on. "

"Hark you, sir, " cried Charles, "I can bear no more of this. We have hadin this house most horrible and damning evidence that there are suchthings as vampyres. "

"Have you really? I suppose you eat raw pork at supper, and so had thenightmare?"

"A jest is welcome in its place, but pray hear me out, sir, if it suityour lofty courtesy to do so. "

"Oh, certainly. "

"Then I say we believe, as far as human judgment has a right to go, thata vampyre has been here. "

"Go on, it's interesting. I always was a lover of the wild and thewonderful. "

"We have, too, " continued Charles, "some reason to believe that you arethe man. "

Varney tapped his forehead as he glanced at Henry, and said, --

"Oh, dear, I did not know. You should have told me he was a little wrongabout the brain; I might have quarreled with the lad. Dear me, howlamentable for his poor mother. "

"This will not do, Sir Francis Varney _alias_ Bannerworth. "

"Oh--oh! Be calm--be calm. "

"I defy you to your teeth, sir! No, God, no! Your teeth!"

"Poor lad! Poor lad!"

"You are a cowardly demon, and here I swear to devote myself to yourdestruction. "

Sir Francis Varney drew himself up to his full height, and that wasimmense, as he said to Henry, --

"I pray you, Mr. Bannerworth, since I am thus grievously insultedbeneath your roof, to tell me if your friend here be mad or sane?"

"He's not mad. "

"Then--"

"Hold, sir! The quarrel shall be mine. In the name of my persecutedsister--in the name of Heaven. Sir Francis Varney, I defy you. "

Sir Francis, in spite of his impenetrable calmness, appeared somewhatmoved, as he said, --

"I have already endured insult sufficient--I will endure no more. Ifthere are weapons at hand--"

"My young friend, " interrupted Mr. Marchdale, stepping between theexcited men, "is carried away by his feelings, and knows not what hesays. You will look upon it in that light, Sir Francis. "

"We need no interference, " exclaimed Varney, his hitherto bland voicechanging to one of fury. "The hot blooded fool wishes to fight, and heshall--to the death--to the death. "

[Illustration]

"And I say he shall not, " exclaimed Mr. Marchdale, taking Henry by thearm. "George, " he added, turning to the young man, "assist me inpersuading your brother to leave the room. Conceive the agony of yoursister and mother if anything should happen to him. "

Varney smiled with a devilish sneer, as he listened to these words, andthen he said, --

"As you will--as you will. There will be plenty of time, and perhapsbetter opportunity, gentlemen. I bid you good day. "

And with provoking coolness, he then moved towards the door, and quittedthe room. 

"Remain here, " said Marchdale; "I will follow him, and see that he quitsthe premises. "

He did so, and the young men, from the window, beheld Sir Franciswalking slowly across the garden, and then saw Mr. Marchdale follow onhis track. 

While they were thus occupied, a tremendous ringing came at the gate, but their attention was so rivetted to what was passing in the garden, that they paid not the least attention to it. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE ADMIRAL'S ADVICE. --THE CHALLENGE TO THE VAMPYRE. --THE NEW SERVANT ATTHE HALL. 

[Illustration]

The violent ringing of the bell continued uninterruptedly until atlength George volunteered to answer it. The fact was, that now there wasno servant at all in the place for, after the one who had recentlydemanded of Henry her dismissal had left, the other was terrified toremain alone, and had precipitately gone from the house, without evengoing through the ceremony of announcing her intention to. To be sure, she sent a boy for her money afterwards, which may be considered a greatact of condescension. 

Suspecting, then, this state of things, George himself hastened to thegate, and, being not over well pleased at the continuous and unnecessaryringing which was kept up at it, he opened it quickly, and cried, withmore impatience, by a vast amount, than was usual with him. 

"Who is so impatient that he cannot wait a seasonable time for the doorto be opened?"

"And who the d----l are you?" cried one who was immediately outside. 

"Who do you want?" cried George. 

"Shiver my timbers!" cried Admiral Bell, for it was no other than thatpersonage. "What's that to you?"

"Ay, ay, " added Jack, "answer that if you can, you shore-going-lookingswab. "

"Two madmen, I suppose, " ejaculated George, and he would have closed thegate upon them; but Jack introduced between it and the post the end of athick stick, saying, --

"Avast there! None of that; we have had trouble enough to get in. If youare the family lawyer, or the chaplain, perhaps you'll tell us whereMister Charley is. "

"Once more I demand of you who you want?" said George, who was nowperhaps a little amused at the conduct of the impatient visitors. 

"We want the admiral's _nevey_" said Jack. 

"But how do I know who is the admiral's _nevey_ as you call him. "

"Why, Charles Holland, to be sure. Have you got him aboard or not?"

"Mr. Charles Holland is certainly here; and, if you had said at once, and explicitly, that you wished to see him, I could have given you adirect answer. "

"He is here?" cried the admiral. 

"Most certainly. "

"Come along, then; yet, stop a bit. I say, young fellow, just before wego any further, tell us if he has maimed the vampyre?"

"The what?

"The _wamphigher_, " said Jack, by way of being, as he considered, alittle more explanatory than the admiral. 

"I do not know what you mean, " said George; "if you wish to see Mr. Charles Holland walk in and see him. He is in this house; but, formyself, as you are strangers to me, I decline answering any questions, let their import be what they may. "

"Hilloa! who are they?" suddenly cried Jack, as he pointed to twofigures some distance off in the meadows, who appeared to be angrilyconversing. 

George glanced in the direction towards which Jack pointed, and there hesaw Sir Francis Varney and Mr. Marchdale standing within a few paces ofeach other, and apparently engaged in some angry discussion. 

His first impulse was to go immediately towards them; but, before hecould execute even that suggestion of his mind, he saw Varney strikeMarchdale, and the latter fell to the ground. 

"Allow me to pass, " cried George, as he endeavoured to get by the ratherunwieldy form of the admiral. But, before he could accomplish this, forthe gate was narrow, he saw Varney, with great swiftness, make off, andMarchdale, rising to his feet, came towards the Hall. 

When Marchdale got near enough to the garden-gate to see George, hemotioned to him to remain where he was, and then, quickening his pace, he soon came up to the spot. 

"Marchdale, " cried George, "you have had an encounter with Sir FrancisVarney. "

"I have, " said Marchdale, in an excited manner. "I threatened to followhim, but he struck me to the earth as easily as I could a child. Hisstrength is superhuman. "

"I saw you fall. "

"I believe, but that he was observed, he would have murdered me. "

"Indeed!"

"What, do you mean to say that lankey, horse-marine looking fellow is asbad as that!" said the admiral. 

Marchdale now turned his attention to the two new comers, upon whom helooked with some surprise, and then, turning to George, he said, --

"Is this gentleman a visitor?"

"To Mr. Holland, I believe he is, " said George; "but I have not thepleasure of knowing his name. "

"Oh, you may know my name as soon as you like, " cried the admiral. "Theenemies of old England know it, and I don't care if all the world knowsit. I'm old Admiral Bell, something of a hulk now, but still able tohead a quarter-deck if there was any need to do so. "

"Ay, ay, " cried Jack, and taking from his pocket a boatswain's whistle, he blew a blast so long, and loud, and shrill, that George was fain tocover his ears with his hands to shut out the brain-piercing, and, tohim unusual sound. 

"And are you, then, a relative, " said Marchdale, "of Mr. Holland's, sir, may I ask?"

"I'm his uncle, and be d----d to him, if you must know, and some one hastold me that the young scamp thinks of marrying a mermaid, or a ghost, or a vampyre, or some such thing, so, for the sake of the memory of hispoor mother, I've come to say no to the bargain, and d--n me, whocares. "

"Come in, sir, " said George, "I will conduct you to Mr. Holland. Ipresume this is your servant?"

"Why, not exactly. That's Jack Pringle, he was my boatswain, you see, and now he's a kind o' something betwixt and between. Not exactly aservant. "

"Ay, ay, sir, " said Jack. "Have it all your own way, though we is paidoff. "

"Hold your tongue, you audacious scoundrel, will you. "

"Oh, I forgot, you don't like anything said about paying off, cos itputs you In mind of--"

"Now, d--n you, I'll have you strung up to the yard-arm, you dog, if youdon't belay there. "

"I'm done. All's right. "

By this time the party, including the admiral, Jack, George Bannerworth, and Marchdale, had got more than half-way across the garden, and wereobserved by Charles Holland and Henry, who had come to the steps of thehall to see what was going on. The moment Charles saw the admiral achange of colour came over his face, and he exclaimed, --

"By all that's surprising, there is my uncle!"

"Your uncle!" said Henry. 

"Yes, as good a hearted a man as ever drew breath, and yet, withal, asfull of prejudices, and as ignorant of life, as a child. "

Without waiting for any reply from Henry, Charles Holland rushedforward, and seizing his uncle by the hand, he cried, in tones ofgenuine affection, --

"Uncle, dear uncle, how came you to find me out?"

"Charley, my boy, " cried the old man, "bless you; I mean, confound yourd----d impudence; you rascal, I'm glad to see you; no, I ain't, youyoung mutineer. What do you mean by it, you ugly, ill-looking, d----dfine fellow--my dear boy. Oh, you infernal scoundrel. "

All this was accompanied by a shaking of the hand, which was enough todislocate anybody's shoulder, and which Charles was compelled to bear aswell as he could. 

It quite prevented him from speaking, however, for a few moments, for itnearly shook the breath out of him. When, then, he could get in a word, he said, --

"Uncle, I dare say you are surprised. "

"Surprised! D--n me, I am surprised. "

"Well, I shall be able to explain all to your satisfaction, I am sure. Allow me now to introduce you to my friends. "

Turning then to Henry, Charles said, --

"This is Mr. Henry Bannerworth, uncle; and this Mr. George Bannerworth, both good friends of mine; and this is Mr. Marchdale, a friend oftheirs, uncle. "

"Oh, indeed!"

"And here you see Admiral Bell, my most worthy, but rather eccentricuncle. "

"Confound your impudence. "

"What brought him here I cannot tell; but he is a brave officer, and agentleman. "

"None of your nonsense, " said the admiral. 

"And here you sees Jack Pringle, " said that individual, introducinghimself, since no one appeared inclined to do that office for him, "atar for all weathers. One as hates the French, and is never so happy aswhen he's alongside o' some o' those lubberly craft blazing away. "

"That's uncommonly true, " remarked the admiral. 

"Will you walk in, sir?" said Henry, courteously. "Any friend of CharlesHolland's is most welcome here. You will have much to excuse us for, because we are deficient in servants at present, in consequence of comeoccurrences in our family, which your nephew has our full permission toexplain to you in full"

"Oh, very good, I tell you what it is, all of you, what I've seen ofyou, d----e, I like, so here goes. Come along, Jack. "

The admiral walked into the house, and as he went, Charles Holland saidto him, --

"How came you to know I was here, uncle?"

"Some fellow wrote me a despatch. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, saying at you was a going to marry some odd sort of fish as itwasn't at all the thing to introduce into the family. "

"Was--was a vampyre mentioned?"

"That's the very thing. "

"Hush, uncle--hush. "

"What for?"

"Do not, I implore, hint at such a thing before these kind friends ofmine. I will take an opportunity within the next hour of explaining allto you, and you shall form your own kind and generous judgement uponcircumstances in which my honour and my happiness are so nearlyconcerned. "

"Gammon, " said the admiral. 

"What, uncle?"

"Oh, I know you want to palaver me into saying it's all right. I supposeif my judgment and generosity don't like it, I shall be an old fool, anda cursed goose?"

"Now, uncle. "

"Now, _nevey_. "

"Well, well--no more at present. We will talk over this at leisure. Youpromise me to say nothing about it until you have heard my explanation, uncle?"

"Very good. Make it as soon as you can, and as short as you can, that'sall I ask of you. "

"I will, I will. "

Charles was to the full as anxious as his uncle could be to enter uponthe subject, some remote information of which, he felt convinced, hadbrought the old man down to the Hall. Who it could have been that so farintermeddled with his affairs as to write to him, he could not possiblyconceive. 

A very few words will suffice to explain the precise position in whichCharles Holland was. A considerable sum of money had been left to him, but it was saddled with the condition that he should not come intopossession of it until he was one year beyond the age which is usuallydenominated that of discretion, namely, twenty-one. His uncle, theadmiral, was the trustee of his fortune, and he, with rare discretion, had got the active and zealous assistance of a professional gentleman ofgreat honour and eminence to conduct the business for him. 

This gentleman had advised that for the two years between the ages oftwenty and twenty-two, Charles Holland should travel, inasmuch as inEnglish society he would find himself in an awkward position, being forone whole year of age, and yet waiting for his property. 

Under such circumstances, reasoned the lawyer, a young man, unless he ispossessed of very rare discretion indeed, is almost sure to getfearfully involved with money-lenders. Being of age, his notes, andbills, and bonds would all be good, and he would be in a ten times worsesituation than a wealthy minor. 

All this was duly explained to Charles, who, rather eagerly thanotherwise, caught at the idea of a two years wander on the continent, where he could visit so many places, which to a well read young man likehimself, and one of a lively imagination, were full of the mostdelightful associations. 

But the acquaintance with Flora Bannerworth effected a great revolutionin his feelings. The dearest, sweetest spot on earth became that whichshe inhabited. When the Bannerworths left him abroad, he knew not whatto do with himself. Everything, and every pursuit in which he had beforetaken a delight, became most distasteful to him. He was, in fact, in ashort time, completely "used up, " and then he determined upon returningto England, and finding out the dear object of his attachment at once. This resolution was no sooner taken, than his health and spiritsreturned to him, and with what rapidity he could, he now made his way tohis native shores. 

The two years were so nearly expired, that he made up his mind he wouldnot communicate either with his uncle, the admiral, or the professionalgentleman upon whose judgment he set so high and so just a value. And atthe Hall he considered he was in perfect security from any interruption, and so he would have been, but for that letter which was written toAdmiral Bell, and signed Josiah Crinkles, but which Josiah Crinkles soemphatically denied all knowledge of. Who wrote it, remains at presentone of those mysteries which time, in the progress of our narrative, will clear up. 

The opportune, or rather the painful juncture at which Charles Hollandhad arrived at Bannerworth Hall, we are well cognisant of. Where heexpected to find smiles he found tears, and the family with whom he hadfondly hoped he should pass a time of uninterrupted happiness, he foundplunged in the gloom incidental to an occurrence of the most painfulcharacter. 

Our readers will perceive, too, that coming as he did with an utterdisbelief in the vampyre, Charles had been compelled, in some measure, to yield to the overwhelming weight of evidence which had been broughtto bear upon the subject, and although he could not exactly be said tobelieve in the existence and the appearance of the vampyre atBannerworth Hall, he was upon the subject in a most painful state ofdoubt and indecision. 

Charles now took an opportunity to speak to Henry privately, and informhim exactly how he stood with his uncle, adding--

"Now, my dear friend, if you forbid me, I will not tell my uncle of thissad affair, but I must own I would rather do so fully and freely, andtrust to his own judgment upon it. "

"I implore you to do so, " said Henry. "Conceal nothing. Let him know theprecise situation and circumstances of the family by all means. There isnothing so mischievous as secrecy: I have the greatest dislike to it. Ibeg you tell him all. "

"I will; and with it, Henry, I will tell him that my heart isirrevocably Flora's. "

"Your generous clinging to one whom your heart saw and loved, under verydifferent auspices, " said Henry, "believe me, Charles, sinks deep intomy heart. She has related to me something of a meeting she had withyou. "

"Oh, Henry, she may tell you what I said; but there are no words whichcan express the depth of my tenderness. 'Tis only time which can provehow much I love her. "

"Go to your uncle, " said Henry, in a voice of emotion. "God bless you, Charles. It is true you would have been fully justified in leaving mysister; but the nobler and the more generous path you have chosen hasendeared you to us all. "

"Where is Flora now?" said Charles. 

"She is in her own room. I have persuaded her, by some occupation, towithdraw her mind from a too close and consequently painfulcontemplation of the distressing circumstances in which she feelsherself placed. "

"You are right. What occupation best pleases her?"

"The pages of romance once had a charm for her gentle spirit. "

"Then come with me, and, from among the few articles I brought with mehere, I can find some papers which may help her to pass some merryhours. "

Charles took Henry to his room, and, unstrapping a small valise, he tookfrom it some manuscript papers, one of which he handed to Henry, saying--

"Give that to her: it contains an account of a wild adventure, and showsthat human nature may suffer much more--and that wrongfully too--thancame ever under our present mysterious affliction. "

"I will, " said Henry; "and, coming from you, I am sure it will have amore than ordinary value in her eyes. "

"I will now, " said Charles, "seek my uncle. I will tell him how I loveher; and at the end of my narration, if he should not object, I wouldfain introduce her to him, that he might himself see that, let whatbeauty may have met his gaze, her peer he never yet met with, and may invain hope to do so. "

"You are partial, Charles. "

"Not so. 'Tis true I look upon her with a lover's eyes, but I look stillwith those of truthful observation. "

"Well, I will speak to her about seeing your uncle, and let you know. Nodoubt, he will not be at all averse to an interview with any one whostands high in your esteem. "

The young men now separated--Henry, to seek his beautiful sister; andCharles, to communicate to his uncle the strange particulars connectedwith Varney, the Vampyre. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

FLORA IN HER CHAMBER. --HER FEARS. --THE MANUSCRIPT. --AN ADVENTURE. 

[Illustration]

Henry found Flora in her chamber. She was in deep thought when he tappedat the door of the room, and such was the state of nervous excitement inwhich she was that even the demand for admission made by him to the roomwas sufficient to produce from her a sudden cry of alarm. 

"Who--who is there?" she then said, in accents full of terror. 

"'Tis I, dear Flora, " said Henry. 

She opened the door in an instant, and, with a feeling of gratefulrelief, exclaimed--

"Oh, Henry, is it only you?"

"Who did you suppose it was, Flora?"

She shuddered. 

"I--I--do not know; but I am so foolish now, and so weak-spirited, thatthe slightest noise is enough to alarm me. "

"You must, dear Flora, fight up, as I had hoped you were doing, againstthis nervousness. "

"I will endeavour. Did not some strangers come a short time since, brother?"

"Strangers to us, Flora, but not to Charles Holland. A relative ofhis--an uncle whom he much respects, has found him out here, and has nowcome to see him. "

"And to advise him, " said Flora, as she sunk into a chair, and weptbitterly; "to advise him, of course, to desert, as he would apestilence, a vampyre bride. "

"Hush, hush! for the sake of Heaven, never make use of such a phrase, Flora. You know not what a pang it brings to my heart to hear you. "

"Oh, forgive me, brother. "

"Say no more of it, Flora. Heed it not. It may be possible--in fact, itmay well be supposed as more than probable--that the relative of CharlesHolland may shrink from sanctioning the alliance, but do you restsecurely in the possession of the heart which I feel convinced is whollyyours, and which, I am sure, would break ere it surrendered you. "

A smile of joy came across Flora's pale but beautiful face, as shecried, --

"And you, dear brother--you think so much of Charles's faith?"

"As Heaven is my judge, I do. "

"Then I will bear up with what strength God may give me against allthings that seek to depress me; I will not be conquered. "

"You are right, Flora; I rejoice to find in you such a disposition. Hereis some manuscript which Charles thinks will amuse you, and he bade meask you if you would be introduced to his uncle. "

"Yes, yes--willingly. "

"I will tell him so; I know he wishes it, and I will tell him so. Bepatient, dear Flora, and all may yet be well. "

"But, brother, on your sacred word, tell me do you not think this SirFrancis Varney is the vampyre?"

"I know not what to think, and do not press me for a judgment now. Heshall be watched. "

Henry left his sister, and she sat for some moments in silence with thepapers before her that Charles had sent her. 

"Yes, " she then said, gently, "he loves me--Charles loves me; I ought tobe very, very happy. He loves me. In those words are concentrated awhole world of joy--Charles loves me--he will not forsake me. Oh, wasthere ever such dear love--such fond devotion?--never, never. DearCharles. He loves me--he loves me!"

The very repetition of these words had a charm for Flora--a charm whichwas sufficient to banish much sorrow; even the much-dreaded vampyre wasforgotten while the light of love was beaming upon her, and she toldherself, --

"He is mine!--he is mine! He loves me truly. "

After a time, she turned to the manuscript which her brother had broughther, and, with a far greater concentration of mind than she had thoughtit possible she could bring to it, considering the many painful subjectsof contemplation that she might have occupied herself with, she read thepages with very great pleasure and interest. 

The tale was one which chained her attention both by its incidents andthe manner of its recital. It commenced as follows, and was entitled, "Hugo de Verole; or, the Double Plot. "

In a very mountainous part of Hungary lived a nobleman whose paternalestates covered many a mile of rock and mountain land, as well as somefertile valleys, in which reposed a hardy and contented peasantry. Theold Count de Hugo de Verole had quitted life early, and had left hisonly son, the then Count Hugo de Verole, a boy of scarcely ten years, under the guardianship of his mother, an arbitrary and unscrupulouswoman. 

The count, her husband, had been one of those quiet, even-tempered men, who have no desire to step beyond the sphere in which they are placed;he had no cares, save those included in the management of his estate, the prosperity of his serfs, and the happiness of those, around him. 

His death caused much lamentation throughout his domains, it was sosudden and unexpected, being in the enjoyment of his health and strengthuntil a few hours previous, and then his energies became prostrated bypain and disease. There was a splendid funeral ceremony, which, according to the usages of his house, took place by torch-light. 

So great and rapid were the ravages of disease, that the count's bodyquickly became a mass of corruption. All were amazed at the phenomena, and were heartily glad when the body was disposed of in the placeprepared for its reception in the vaults of his own castle. The guestswho came to witness the funeral, and attend the count's obsequies, andto condole with the widow on the loss she had sustained, wereentertained sumptuously for many days. 

The widow sustained her part well. She was inconsolable for the loss ofher husband, and mourned his death bitterly. Her grief appearedprofound, but she, with difficulty, subdued it to within decent bounds, that she might not offend any of her numerous guests. 

However, they left her with the assurances of their profound regard, andthen when they were gone, when the last guest had departed, and were nolonger visible to the eye of the countess, as she gazed from thebattlements, then her behaviour changed totally. 

She descended from the battlements, and then with an imperious gestureshe gave her orders that all the gates of the castle should be closed, and a watch set. All signs of mourning she ordered to be laid on oneside save her own, which she wore, and then she retired to her ownapartment, where she remained unseen. 

Here the countess remained in profound meditation for nearly two days, during which time the attendants believed she was praying for thewelfare of the soul of their deceased master, and they feared she wouldstarve herself to death if she remained any longer. 

Just as they had assembled together for the purpose of either recallingher from her vigils or breaking open the door, they were amazed to seethe countess open the room-door, and stand in the midst of them. 

"What do you here?" she demanded, in a stern voice. 

The servants were amazed and terrified at her contracted brow, andforgot to answer the question she put to them. 

"What do you do here?"

"We came, my lady, to see--see--if--if you were well. "

"And why?"

"Because we hadn't seen your ladyship these two days, and we thoughtthat your grief was so excessive that we feared some harm might befallyou. "

The countess's brows contracted for a few seconds, and she was about tomake a hasty reply, but she conquered the desire to do so, and merelysaid, --

"I am not well, I am faint; but, had I been dying, I should not havethanked you for interfering to prevent me; however, you acted for thebest, but do so no more. Now prepare me some food. "

The servants, thus dismissed, repaired to their stations, but with sucha degree of alacrity, that they sufficiently showed how much they fearedtheir mistress. 

The young count, who was only in his sixth year, knew little about theloss he had sustained; but after a day or two's grief, there was an endof his sorrow for the time. 

That night there came to the castle-gate a man dressed in a black cloak, attended by a servant. They were both mounted on good horses, and theydemanded to be admitted to the presence of the Countess de Hugo deVerole. 

The message was carried to the countess, who started, but said, --

"Admit the stranger. "

Accordingly the stranger was admitted, and shown into the apartmentwhere the countess was sitting. 

At a signal the servants retired, leaving the countess and the strangeralone. It was some moments ere they spoke, and then the countess said ina low tone, --

"You are come?"

"I am come. "

"You cannot now, you see, perform your threat. My husband, the count, caught a putrid disease, and he is no more. "

"I cannot indeed do what I intended, inform your husband of your amours;but I can do something as good, and which will give you as muchannoyance. "

"Indeed. "

"Aye, more, it will cause you to be hated. I can spread reports. "

"You can. "

"And these may ruin you. "

"They may. "

"What do you intend to do? Do you intend that I shall be an enemy or afriend? I can be either, according to my will. "

"What, do you desire to be either?" inquired the countess, with acareless tone. 

"If you refuse my terms, you can make me an implacable enemy, and if yougrant them, you can make me a useful friend and auxiliary, " said thestranger. 

"What would you do if you were my enemy?" inquired the countess. 

"It is hardly my place, " said the stranger, "to furnish you with aknowledge of my intentions, but I will say this much, that the bankruptCount of Morven is your lover. "

"Well?"

"And in the second place, that you were the cause of the death of yourhusband, "

"How dare you, sir--"

"I dare say so much, and I dare say, also, that the Count of Morvenbought the drug of me, and that he gave it to you, and that you gave itto the count your husband. "

"And what could you do if you were my friend?" inquired the countess, inthe same tone, and without emotion. 

"I should abstain from doing all this; should be able to put any oneelse out of your way for you, when you get rid of this Count of Morven, as you assuredly will; for I know him too well not to be sure of that. "

"Get rid of him!"

"Exactly, in the same manner you got rid of the old count. "

"Then I accept your terms. "

"It is agreed, then?"

"Yes, quite. "

"Well, then, you must order me some rooms in a tower, where I can pursuemy studies in quiet. "

"You will be seen--and noticed--all will be discovered. "

"No, indeed, I will take care of that, I can so far disguise myself thathe will not recognise me, and you can give out I am a philosopher ornecromancer, or what you will; no one will come to me--they will beterrified. "

"Very well. "

"And the gold?"

"Shall be forthcoming as soon as I can get it. The count has placed allhis gold in safe keeping, and all I can seize are the rents as theybecome due. "

"Very well; but let me have them. In the meantime you must provide forme, as I have come here with the full intention of staying here, or insome neighbouring town. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes; and my servant must be discharged, as I want none here. "

The countess called to an attendant and gave the necessary orders, andafterwards remained some time with the stranger, who had thus sounceremoniously thrust himself upon her, and insisted upon staying undersuch strange and awful circumstances. 

 * * * * *

The Count of Morven came a few weeks after, and remained some days withthe countess. They were ceremonious and polite until they had a momentto retire from before people, when the countess changed her cold disdainto a cordial and familiar address. 

"And now, my dear Morven, " she exclaimed, as soon as they wereunobserved--"and now, my dear Morven, that we are not seen, tell me, what have you been doing with yourself?"

"Why, I have been in some trouble. I never had gold that would stay byme. You know my hand was always open. "

"The old complaint again. "

"No; but having come to the end of my store, I began to grow serious. "

"Ah, Morven!' said the countess, reproachfully. 

"Well, never mind; when my purse is low my spirits sink, as the mercurydoes with the cold. You used to say my spirits were mercurial--I thinkthey were. "

"Well, what did you do?"

"Oh, nothing. "

"Was that what you were about to tell me?" inquired the countess. 

"Oh, dear, no. You recollect the Italian quack of whom I bought the drugyou gave to the count, and which put an end to his days--he wanted moremoney. Well, as I had no more to spare, I could spare no more to him, and he turned vicious, and threatened. I threatened, too, and he knew Iwas fully able and willing to perform any promise I might make to him onthat score. I endeavoured to catch him, as he had already began to setpeople off on the suspicious and marvellous concerning me, and if Icould have come across him, I would have laid him very low indeed. "

"And you could not find him?"

"No, I could not. "

[Illustration]

"Well, then, I will tell you where he is at this present moment. "

"You?"

"Yes, I. "

"I can scarcely credit my senses at what you say, " said Count Morven. "My worthy doctor, you are little better than a candidate for divinehonours. But where is he?"

"Will you promise to be guided by me?" said the countess. 

"If you make it a condition upon which you grant the information, Imust. "

"Well, then, I take that as a promise. "

"You may. Where--oh, where is he?"

"Remember your promise. Your doctor is at this moment in this castle. "

"This castle?"

"Yes, this castle. "

"Surely there must be some mistake; it is too much fortune at once. "

"He came here for the same purpose he went to you. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, to get more money by extortion, and a promise to poison anybody Iliked. "

"D--n! it is the offer he made to me, and he named you. "

"He named you to me, and said I should be soon tired of you. "

"You have caged him?"

"Oh, dear, no; he has a suite of apartments in the eastern tower, wherehe passes for a philosopher, or a wizard, as people like best. "

"How?"

"I have given him leave there. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes; and what is more amazing is, that he is to aid me in poisoning youwhen I have become tired of you. "

"This is a riddle I cannot unravel; tell me the solution. "

"Well, dear, listen, --he came to me and told me of something I alreadyknew, and demanded money and a residence for his convenience, and I havegranted him the asylum. "

"You have?"

"I have. "

"I see; I will give him an inch or two of my Andrea Ferrara. "

"No--no. "

"Do you countenance him?"

"For a time. Listen--we want men in the mines; my late husband sent veryfew to them of late years, and therefore they are getting short of menthere. "

"Aye, aye. "

"The thing will be for you to feign ignorance of the man, and then youwill be able to get him seized, and placed in the mines, for such men ashe are dangerous, and carry poisoned weapons. "

"Would he not be better out of the world at once; there would be noescape, and no future contingencies?"

"No--no. I will have no more lives taken; and he will be made useful;and, moreover, he will have time to reflect upon the mistake he had madein threatening me. "

"He was paid for the job, and he had no future claim. But what about thechild?"

"Oh, he may remain for some time longer here with us. "

"It will be dangerous to do so, " said the count; "he is now ten yearsold, and there is no knowing what may be done for him by his relatives. "

"They dare not enter the gates of this castle Morven. "

"Well, well; but you know he might have travelled the same road as hisfather, and all would be settled. "

"No more lives, as I told you; but we can easily secure him some otherway, and we shall be equally as free from him and them. "

"That is enough--there are dungeons, I know, in this castle, and he canbe kept there safe enough. "

"He can; but that is not what I propose. We can put him into the minesand confine him as a lunatic. "

"Excellent!"

"You see, we must make those mines more productive somehow or other;they would be so, but the count would not hear of it; he said it was soinhuman, they were so destructive of life. "

"Paha! what were the mines intended for if not for use?"

"Exactly--I often said so, but he always put a negative to it. "

"We'll make use of an affirmative, my dear countess, and see what willbe the result in a change of policy. By the way, when will our marriagebe celebrated?"

"Not for some months. "

"How, so long? I am impatient. "

"You must restrain your impatience--but we must have the boy settledfirst, and the count will have been dead a longer time then, and weshall not give so much scandal to the weak-minded fools that were hisfriends, for it will be dangerous to have so many events happen aboutthe same period. "

"You shall act as you think proper--but the first thing to be done willbe, to get this cunning doctor quietly out of the way. "

"Yes. "

"I must contrive to have him seized, and carried to the mines. "

"Beneath the tower in which he lives is a trap-door and a vault, fromwhich, by means of another trap and vault, is a long subterraneanpassage that leads to a door that opens into one end of the mines; nearthis end live several men whom you must give some reward to, and theywill, by concert, seize him, and set him to work. "

"And if he will not work?"

"Why, they will scourge him in such a manner, that he would be afraideven of a threat of a repetition of the same treatment. "

"That will do. But I think the worthy doctor will split himself withrage and malice, he will be like a caged tiger. "

"But he will be denuded of his teeth and claws, " replied the countess, smiling "therefore he will have leisure to repent of having threatenedhis employers. "

 * * * * *

Some weeks passed over, and the Count of Morven contrived to becomeacquainted with the doctor. They appeared to be utter strangers to eachother, though each knew the other; the doctor having disguised himself, he believed the disguise impenetrable and therefore sat at ease. 

"Worthy doctor, " said the count to him, one day; "you have, no doubt, inyour studies, become acquainted with many of the secrets of science. "

"I have, my lord count; I may say there are few that are not known toFather Aldrovani. I have spent many years in research. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes; the midnight lamp has burned till the glorious sun has reached thehorizon, and brings back the day, and yet have I been found beside mybooks. "

"'Tis well; men like you should well know the value of the purest andmost valuable metals the earth produces?"

"I know of but one--that is gold!"

"'Tis what I mean. "

"But 'tis hard to procure from the bowels of the earth--from the heartof these mountains by which we are surrounded. "

"Yes, that is true. But know you not the owners of this castle andterritory possess these mines and work them?"

"I believe they do; but I thought they had discontinued working themsome years. "

"Oh, no! that was given out to deceive the government, who claimed somuch out of its products. "

"Oh! ah! aye, I see now. "

"And ever since they have been working it privately, and storing bars ofgold up in the vaults of this--"

"Here, in this castle?"

"Yes; beneath this very tower--it being the least frequented--thestrongest, and perfectly inaccessible from all sides, save thecastle--it was placed there for the safest deposit. "

"I see; and there is much gold deposited in the vaults?"

"I believe there is an immense quantity in the vaults. "

"And what is your motive for telling me of this hoard of the preciousmetal?"

"Why, doctor, I thought that you or I could use a few bars; and that, ifwe acted in concert, we might be able to take away, at various times, and secrete, in some place or other, enough to make us rich men for allour lives. "

"I should like to see this gold before I said anything about it, "replied the doctor, thoughtfully. 

"As you please; do you find a lamp that will not go out by the suddendraughts of air, or have the means of relighting it, and I willaccompany you. "

"When?"

"This very night, good doctor, when you shall see such a golden harvestyou never yet hoped for, or even believed in. "

"To-night be it, then, " replied the doctor. "I will have a lamp thatwill answer our purpose, and some other matters. "

"Do, good doctor, " and the count left the philosopher's cell. 

 * * * * *

"The plan takes, " said the count to the countess, "give me the keys, andthe worthy man will be in safety before daylight. "

"Is he not suspicious?"

"Not at all. "

 * * * * *

That night, about an hour before midnight, --the Count Morven stoletowards the philosopher's room. He tapped at the door. 

"Enter, " said the philosopher. 

The count entered, and saw the philosopher seated, and by him a lamp ofpeculiar construction, and incased in gauze wire, and a cloak. 

"Are you ready?" inquired the count. 

"Quite, " he replied. 

"Is that your lamp?"

"It is. "

"Follow me, then, and hold the lamp tolerably high, as the way isstrange, and the steps steep. "

"Lead on. "

"You have made up your mind, I dare say, as to what share of theundertaking you will accept of with me. "

"And what if I will not?" said the philosopher, coolly. 

"It falls to the ground, and I return the keys to their place. "

"I dare say I shall not refuse, if you have not deceived me as to thequantity and purity of the metal they have stored up. "

"I am no judge of these metals, doctor. I am no assayest; but I believeyou will find what I have to show you will far exceed your expectationson that head. "

"'Tis well: proceed. "

They had now got to the first vault, in which stood the first door, and, with some difficulty, they opened the vault door. 

"It has not been opened for some time, " said the philosopher. 

"I dare say not, they seldom used to go here, from what I can learn, though it is kept a great secret. "

"And we can keep it so, likewise. "

"True. "

They now entered the vault, and came to the second door, which openedinto a kind of flight of steps, cut out of the solid rock, and thenalong a passage cut out of the mountain, of some kind of stone, but notso hard as the rock itself. 

"You see, " said the count, "what care has been taken to isolate theplace, and detach it from the castle, so that it should not be dependentupon the possessor of the castle. This is the last door but one, and nowprepare yourself for a surprise, doctor, this will be an extraordinaryone. "

So saying, the count opened the door, and stepped on one side, when thedoctor approached the place, and was immediately thrust forward by thecount and he rolled down some steps into the mine, and was immediatelyseized by some of the miners, who had been stationed there for thatpurpose, and carried to a distant part of the mine, there to work forthe remainder of his life. 

The count, seeing all secure, refastened the doors, and returned to thecastle. A few weeks after this the body of a youth, mangled anddisfigured, was brought to the castle, which the countess said was herson's body. 

The count had immediately secured the real heir, and thrust him into themines, there to pass a life of labour and hopeless misery. 

 * * * * *

There was a high feast held. The castle gates were thrown open, andeverybody who came were entertained without question. 

This was on the occasion of the count's and countess's marriage. Itseemed many months after the death of her son, whom she affected tomourn for a long time. 

However, the marriage took place, and in all magnificence and splendour. The countess again appeared arrayed in splendour and beauty: she wasproud and haughty, and the count was imperious. 

In the mean time, the young Count de Hugo de Verole was confined in themines, and the doctor with him. 

By a strange coincidence, the doctor and the young count becamecompanions, and the former, meditating projects of revenge, educated theyoung count as well as he was able for several years in the mines, andcherished in the young man a spirit of revenge. They finally escapedtogether, and proceeded to Leyden, where the doctor had friends, andwhere he placed his pupil at the university, and thus made him a mostefficient means of revenge, because the education of the count gave hima means of appreciating the splendour and rank he had been deprived of. He, therefore, determined to remain at Leyden until he was of age, andthen apply to his father's friends, and then to his sovereign, todispossess and punish them both for their double crime. 

The count and countess lived on in a state of regal splendour. Theimmense revenue of his territory, and the treasure the late count hadamassed, as well as the revenue that the mines brought in, would havesupported a much larger expenditure than even their tastes disposed themto enjoy. 

They had heard nothing of the escape of the doctor and the young count. Indeed, those who knew of it held their peace and said nothing about it, for they feared the consequences of their negligence. The firstintimation they received was at the hands of a state messenger, summoning them to deliver up the castle revenues and treasure of thelate count. 

This was astounding to them, and they refused to do so, but were soonafter seized upon by a regiment of cuirassiers sent to take them, andthey were accused of the crime of murder at the instance of the doctor. 

They were arraigned and found guilty, and, as they were of the patricianorder, their execution was delayed, and they were committed to exile. This was done out of favour to the young count, who did not wish to havehis family name tainted by a public execution, or their being confinedlike convicts. 

The count and countess quitted Hungary, and settled in Italy, where theylived upon the remains of the Count of Morven's property, shorn of alltheir splendour but enough to keep them from being compelled to do anymenial office. 

The young count took possession of his patrimony and his treasure atlast, such as was left by his mother and her paramour. 

The doctor continued to hide his crime from the young count, and theperpetrators denying all knowledge of it, he escaped; but he returned tohis native place, Leyden, with a reward for his services from the youngcount. 

Flora rose from her perusal of the manuscript, which here ended, andeven as she did so, she heard a footstep approaching her chamber door. 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE DREADFUL MISTAKE. --THE TERRIFIC INTERVIEW IN THE CHAMBER. --THEATTACK OF THE VAMPYRE. 

[Illustration]

The footstep which Flora, upon the close of the tale she had beenreading, heard approaching her apartment, came rapidly along thecorridor. 

"It is Henry, returned to conduct me to an interview with Charles'suncle, " she said. "I wonder, now, what manner of man he is. He should insome respects resemble Charles; and if he do so, I shall bestow upon himsome affection for that alone. "

Tap--tap came upon the chamber door. Flora was not at all alarmed now, as she had been when Henry brought her the manuscript. From some strangeaction of the nervous system, she felt quite confident, and resolved tobrave everything. But then she felt quite sure that it was Henry, andbefore the knocking had taken her by surprise. 

"Come in, " she said, in a cheerful voice. "Come in. "

The door opened with wonderful swiftness--a figure stepped into theroom, and then closed it as rapidly, and stood against it. Flora triedto scream, but her tongue refused its office; a confused whirl ofsensations passed through her brain--she trembled, and an icy coldnesscame over her. It was Sir Francis Varney, the vampyre!

He had drawn up his tall, gaunt frame to its full height, and crossedhis arms upon his breast; there was a hideous smile upon his sallowcountenance, and his voice was deep and sepulchral, as he said, --

"Flora Bannerworth, hear that which I have to say, and hear it calmly. You need have nothing to fear. Make an alarm--scream, or shout for help, and, by the hell beneath us, you are lost!"

There was a death-like, cold, passionless manner about the utterance ofthese words, as if they were spoken mechanically, and came from no humanlips. 

Flora heard them, and yet scarcely comprehended them; she stepped slowlyback till she reached a chair, and there she held for support. The onlypart of the address of Varney that thoroughly reached her ears, was thatif she gave any alarm some dreadful consequences were to ensue. But itwas not on account of these words that she really gave no alarm; it wasbecause she was utterly unable to do so. 

"Answer me, " said Varney. "Promise that you will hear that which I haveto say. In so promising you commit yourself to no evil, and you shallhear that which shall give you much peace. "

It was in vain she tried to speak; her lips moved, but she uttered nosound. 

"You are terrified, " said Varney, "and yet I know not why. I do not cometo do you harm, although harm have you done me. Girl, I come to rescueyou from a thraldom of the soul under which you now labour. "

There was a pause of some moments' duration, and then, faintly, Floramanaged to say, --

"Help! help! Oh, help me, Heaven!"

Varney made a gesture of impatience, as he said, --

"Heaven works no special matters now. Flora Bannerworth, if you have asmuch intellect as your nobility and beauty would warrant the world insupposing, you will listen to me. "

"I--I hear, " said Flora, as she still, dragging the chair with her, increased the distance between them. 

"'Tis well. You are now more composed. "

She fixed her eyes upon the face of Varney with a shudder. There couldbe no mistake. It was the same which, with the strange, glassy lookingeyes, had glared upon her on that awful night of the storm when she wasvisited by the vampyre. And Varney returned that gaze unflinchinglyThere was a hideous and strange contortion of his face now as he said, --

"You are beautiful. The most cunning statuary might well model some rarework of art from those rounded limbs, that were surely made to bewitchthe gazer. Your skin rivals the driven snow--what a face of loveliness, and what a form of enchantment. "

She did not speak, but a thought came across her mind, which at oncecrimsoned her cheek--she knew she had fainted on the first visit of thevampyre, and now he, with a hideous reverence, praised beauties which hemight have cast his demoniac eyes over at such a time. 

"You understand me, " he said. "Well, let that pass. I am somethingallied to humanity yet. "

"Speak your errand, " gasped Flora, "or come what may, I scream for helpto those who will not be slow to render it. "

"I know it. "

"You know I will scream?"

"No; you will hear me. I know they would not be slow to tender help toyou, but you will not call for it; I will present to you no necessity. "

"Say on--say on. "

"You perceive I do not attempt to approach you; my errand is one ofpeace. "

"Peace from you! Horrible being, if you be really what even now myappalled imagination shrinks from naming you, would not even to youabsolute annihilation be a blessing?"

"Peace, peace. I came not here to talk on such a subject. I must bebrief, Flora Bannerworth, for time presses. I do not hate you. Whereforeshould I? You are young, and you are beautiful, and you bear a namewhich should command, and does command, some portion of my best regard. "

"There is a portrait, " said Flora, "in this house. "

"No more--no more. I know what you would say. "

"It is yours. "

"The house, and all within, I covet, " he said, uneasily. "Let thatsuffice. I have quarrelled with your brother--I have quarrelled with onewho just now fancies he loves you. "

"Charles Holland loves me truly. "

"It does not suit me now to dispute that point with you. I have themeans of knowing more of the secrets of the human heart than common men. I tell you, Flora Bannerworth, that he who talks to you of love, lovesyou not but with the fleeting fancy of a boy; and there is one who hidesdeep in his heart a world of passion, one who has never spoken to you oflove, and yet who loves you with a love as far surpassing the evanescentfancy of this boy Holland, as does the mighty ocean the most placid lakethat ever basked in idleness beneath a summer's sun. "

There was a wonderful fascination in the manner now of Varney. His voicesounded like music itself. His words flowed from his tongue, each gentlyand properly accented, with all the charm of eloquence. 

Despite her trembling horror of that man--despite her fearful opinion, which might be said to amount to a conviction of what he really was, Flora felt an irresistible wish to hear him speak on. Ay, despite too, the ungrateful theme to her heart which he had now chosen as the subjectof his discourse, she felt her fear of him gradually dissipating, andnow when he made a pause, she said, --

"You are much mistaken. On the constancy and truth of Charles Holland, Iwould stake my life. "

"No doubt, no doubt. "

"Have you spoken now that which you had to say?"

"No, no. I tell you I covet this place, I would purchase it, but havingwith your bad-tempered brothers quarrelled, they will hold no furtherconverse with me. "

"And well they may refuse. "

"Be, that as it may, sweet lady, I come to you to be my mediator. In theshadow of the future I can see many events which are to come. "

"Indeed. "

"It is so. Borrowing some wisdom from the past, and some from resourcesI would not detail to you, I know that if I have inflicted much miseryupon you, I can spare you much more. Your brother or your lover willchallenge me. "

"Oh, no, no. "

"I say such will happen, and I can kill either. My skill as well as mystrength is superhuman. "

"Mercy! mercy!" gasped Flora. "I will spare either or both on acondition. "

"What fearful condition?"

"It is not a fearful one. Your terrors go far before the fact. All Iwish, maiden, of you is to induce these imperious brothers of yours tosell or let the Hall to me. "

"Is that all?"

"It is. I ask no more, and, in return, I promise you not only that Iwill not fight with them, but that you shall never see me again. Restsecurely, maiden, you will be undisturbed by me. "

"Oh, God! that were indeed an assurance worth the striving for, " saidFlora. 

"It is one you may have. But--"

"Oh, I knew--my heart told me there was yet some fearful condition tocome. "

"You are wrong again. I only ask of you that you keep this meeting asecret. "

"No, no, no--I cannot. "

"Nay, what so easy?"

"I will not; I have no secrets from those I love. "

"Indeed, you will find soon the expediency of a few at least; but if youwill not, I cannot urge it longer. Do as your wayward woman's natureprompts you. "

There was a slight, but a very slight, tone of aggravation in thesewords, and the manner in which they were uttered. 

As he spoke, he moved from the door towards the window, which openedinto a kitchen garden. Flora shrunk as far from him as possible, and fora few moments they regarded each other in silence. 

"Young blood, " said Varney, "mantles in your veins. "

She shuddered with terror. 

"Be mindful of the condition I have proposed to you. I covet BannerworthHall. "

"I--I hear. "

"And I must have it. I will have it, although my path to it be through asea of blood. You understand me, maiden? Repeat what has passed betweenus or not, as you please. I say, beware of me, if you keep not thecondition I have proposed. "

"Heaven knows that this place is becoming daily more hateful to us all, "said Flora. 

"Indeed!"

"You well might know so much. It is no sacrifice to urge it now. I willurge my brother. "

"Thanks--a thousand thanks. You may not live to regret even having madea friend of Varney--"

"The vampyre!" said Flora. 

He advanced towards her a step, and she involuntarily uttered a screamof terror. 

In an instant his hand clasped her waist with the power of an iron vice;she felt hit hot breath flushing on her cheek. Her senses reeled, andshe found herself sinking. She gathered all her breath and all herenergies into one piercing shriek, and then she fell to the floor. Therewas a sudden crash of broken glass, and then all was still. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

THE CONFERENCE BETWEEN THE UNCLE AND NEPHEW, AND THE ALARM. 

[Illustration]

Meanwhile Charles Holland had taken his uncle by the arm, and led himinto a private room. 

"Dear uncle, " he said, "be seated, and I will explain everything withoutreserve. "

"Seated!--nonsense! I'll walk about, " said the admiral. "D--n me! I'veno patience to be seated, and very seldom had or have. Go on now, youyoung scamp. "

"Well--well; you abuse me, but I am quite sure, had you been in mysituation, you would have acted precisely as I have done. "

"No, I shouldn't. "

"Well, but, uncle--"

"Don't think to come over me by calling me uncle. Hark you, Charles--from this moment I won't be your uncle any more. "

"Very well, sir. "

"It ain't very well. And how dare you, you buccaneer, call me sir, eh? Isay, how dare you?"

"I will call you anything you like. "

"But I won't be called anything I like. You might as well call me atonce Morgan, the Pirate, for he was called anything he liked. Hilloa, sir! how dare you laugh, eh? I'll teach you to laugh at me. I wish I hadyou on board ship--that's all, you young rascal. I'd soon teach you tolaugh at your superior officer, I would. "

"Oh, uncle, I did not laugh at you. "

"What did you laugh at, then?"

"At the joke. "

"Joke. D--n me, there was no joke at all!"

"Oh, very good. "

"And it ain't very good. "

Charles knew very well that, this sort of humour, in which was the oldadmiral, would soon pass away, and then that he would listen to himcomfortably enough; so he would not allow the least exhibition ofpetulance or mere impatience to escape himself, but contented himself bywaiting until the ebullition of feeling fairly worked itself out. 

"Well, well, " at length said the old man, "you have dragged me here, into a very small and a very dull room, under pretence of havingsomething to tell me, and I have heard nothing yet. "

"Then I will now tell you, " said Charles. "I fell in love--"

"Bah!"

"With Flora Bannerworth, abroad; she is not only the most beautiful ofcreated beings--"

"Bah!"

"But her mind is of the highest order of intelligence, honour, candour, and all amiable feelings--"

"Bah!"

"Really, uncle, if you say 'Bah!' to everything, I cannot go on. "

"And what the deuce difference, sir, does it make to you, whether I say'Bah!' or not?"

"Well, I love her. She came to England, and, as I could not exist, butwas getting ill, and should, no doubt, have died if I had not done so, Icame to England. "

"But d----e, I want to know about the mermaid. "

"The vampyre, you mean, sir?"

"Well, well, the vampyre. "

"Then, uncle, all I can tell you is, that it is supposed a vampyre cameone night and inflicted a wound upon Flora's neck with his teeth, andthat he is still endeavouring to renew his horrible existence from theyoung, pure blood that flows through her veins. "

"The devil he is!"

"Yes. I am bewildered, I must confess, by the mass of circumstances thathave combined to give the affair a horrible truthfulness. Poor Flora ismuch injured in health and spirits; and when I came home, she, at once, implored me to give her up, and think of her no more, for she could notthink of allowing me to unite my fate with hers, under suchcircumstances. "

"She did?"

"Such were her words, uncle. She implored me--she used that word, 'implore'--to fly from her, to leave her to her fate, to endeavour tofind happiness with some one else. "

"Well?"

"But I saw her heart was breaking. "

"What o' that?"

"Much of that, uncle. I told her that when I deserted her in the hour ofmisfortune that I hoped Heaven would desert me. I told her that if herhappiness was wrecked, to cling yet to me, and that with what power andwhat strength God had given me, I would stand between her and all ill. "

"And what then?"

"She--she fell upon my breast and wept and blessed me. Could I deserther--could I say to her, 'My dear girl, when you were full of health andbeauty, I loved you, but now that sadness is at your heart I leave you?'Could I tell her that, uncle, and yet call myself a man?"

"No!" roared the old admiral, in a voice that made the room echo again;"and I tell you what, if you had done so, d--n you, you puppy, I'd havebraced you, and--and married the girl myself. I would, d----e, but Iwould. "

"Dear uncle!"

"Don't dear me, sir. Talk of deserting a girl when the signal ofdistress, in the shape of a tear, is in her eye!"

"But I--"

"You are a wretch--a confounded lubberly boy--a swab--a d----d badgrampus. "

"You mistake, uncle. "

"No, I don't. God bless you, Charles, you shall have her--if a wholeship's crew of vampyres said no, you shall have her. Let me seeher--just let me see her. "

The admiral gave his lips a vigorous wipe with his sleeve, and Charlessaid hastily, --

"My dear uncle, you will recollect that Miss Bannerworth is quite ayoung lady. "

"I suppose she is. "

"Well, then, for God's sake, don't attempt to kiss her. "

"Not kiss her! d----e, they like it. Not kiss her, because she's a younglady! D----e, do you think I'd kiss a corporal of marines?"

"No, uncle; but you know young ladies are very delicate. "

"And ain't I delicate--shiver my timbers, ain't I delicate? Where isshe? that's what I want to know. "

"Then you approve of what I have done?"

"You are a young scamp, but you have got some of the old admiral'sfamily blood in you, so don't take any credit for acting like an honestman--you couldn't help it. "

"But if I had not so acted, " said Charles, with a smile, "what wouldhave become of the family blood, then?"

"What's that to you? I would have disowned you, because that very thingwould have convinced me you were an impostor, and did not belong to thefamily at all. "

"Well, that would have been one way of getting over the difficulty. "

"No difficulty at all. The man who deserts the good ship that carrieshim through the waves, or the girl that trusts her heart to him, oughtto be chopped up into meat for wild monkeys. "

"Well, I think so to. "

"Of course you do. "

"Why, of course?"

"Because it's so d----d reasonable that, being a nephew of mine, youcan't possibly help it. "

"Bravo, uncle! I had no idea you were so argumentative. "

"Hadn't you, spooney; you'd be an ornament to the gun-room, you would;but where's the 'young lady' who is so infernal delicate--where is she, I say?"

"I will fetch her, uncle. "

"Ah, do; I'll be bound, now, she's one of the right build--a goodfigure-head, and don't make too much stern-way. "

[Illustration]

"Well, well, whatever you do, now don't pay her any compliments, foryour efforts in that line are of such a very doubtful order, that Ishall dread to hear you. "

"You be off, and mind your own business; I haven't been at sea fortyyears without picking up some out-and-out delicate compliments to say toa young lady. "

"But do you really imagine, now, that the deck of a man-of-war is a niceplace to pick up courtly compliments in?"

"Of course I do. There you hear the best of language, d----e! You don'tknow what you are talking about, you fellows that have stuck on shoreall your lives; it's we seamen who learn life. "

"Well, well--hark!"

"What's that?"

"A cry--did you not hear a cry?"

"A signal of distress, by G--d!"

In their efforts to leave the room, the uncle and nephew for about aminute actually blocked up the door-way, but the superior bulk of theadmiral prevailed, and after nearly squeezing poor Charles flat, he gotout first. 

But this did not avail him, for he knew not where to go. Now, the secondscream which Flora had uttered when the vampyre had clasped her waistcame upon their ears, and, as they were outside the room, it acted wellas a guide in which direction to come. 

Charles fancied correctly enough at once that it proceeded from the roomwhich was called "Flora's own room, " and thitherward accordingly hedashed at tremendous speed. 

Henry, however, happened to be nearer at hand, and, moreover, he did nothesitate a moment, because he knew that Flora was in her own room; so hereached it first, and Charles saw him rush in a few moments before hecould reach the room. 

The difference of time, however, was very slight, and Henry had onlyjust raised Flora from the floor as Charles appeared. 

"God of Heaven!" cried the latter, "what has happened?"

"I know not, " said Henry; "as God is my judge, I know not. Flora, Flora, speak to us! Flora! Flora!"

"She has fainted!" cried Charles. "Some water may restore her. Oh, Henry, Henry, is not this horrible?"

"Courage! courage!" said Henry although his voice betrayed what aterrible state of anxiety he was himself in; "you will find water inthat decanter, Charles. Here is my mother, too! Another visit! God helpus!"

Mrs. Bannerworth sat down on the edge of the sofa which was in the room, and could only wring her hands and weep. 

"Avast!" cried the admiral, making his appearance. "Where's the enemy, lads?"

"Uncle, " said Charles, "uncle, uncle, the vampyre has been hereagain--the dreadful vampyre!"

"D--n me, and he's gone, too, and carried half the window with him. Lookthere!"

It was literally true; the window, which was a long latticed one, wassmashed through. 

"Help! oh, help!" said Flora, as the water that was dashed in her facebegan to recover her. 

"You are safe!" cried Henry, "you are safe!"

"Flora, " said Charles; "you know my voice, dear Flora? Look up, and youwill see there are none here but those who love you. "

Flora opened her eyes timidly as the said, --

"Has it gone?"

"Yes, yes, dear, " said Charles. "Look around you; here are none but truefriends. "

"And tried friends, my dear, " said Admiral Bell, "excepting me; andwhenever you like to try me, afloat or ashore, d--n me, shew me Old Nickhimself, and I won't shrink--yard arm and yard arm--grapnel tograpnel--pitch pots and grenades!"

"This is my uncle, Flora, " said Charles. 

"I thank you, sir, " said Flora, faintly. 

"All right!" whispered the admiral to Charles; "what a figure-head, tobe sure! Poll at Swansea would have made just about four of her, but shewasn't so delicate, d--n me!"

"I should think not. "

"You are right for once in a way, Charley. "

"What was it that alarmed you?" said Charles, tenderly, as he now tookone of Flora's hands in his. 

"Varney--Varney, the vampyre. "

"Varney!" exclaimed Henry; "Varney here!"

"Yes, he came in at that door: and when I screamed, I suppose--for Ihardly was conscious--he darted out through the window. "

"This, " said Henry, "is beyond all human patience. By Heaven! I cannotand will not endure it. "

"It shall be my quarrel, " said Charles; "I shall go at once and defyhim. He shall meet me. "

"Oh, no, no, no, " said Flora, as she clung convulsively to Charles. "No, no; there is a better way. "

"What way?"

"The place has become full of terrors. Let us leave it. Let him, as hewishes, have it. "

"Let _him_ have it?"

"Yes, yes. God knows, if it purchase an immunity from these visits, wemay well be overjoyed. Remember that we have ample reason to believe himmore than human. Why should you allow yourselves to risk a personalencounter with such a man, who might be glad to kill you that he mighthave an opportunity of replenishing his own hideous existence from yourbest heart's blood?"

The young men looked aghast. 

"Besides, " added Flora, "you cannot tell what dreadful powers ofmischief he may have, against which human courage might be of no avail. "

"There is truth and reason, " said Mr. Marchdale, stepping forward, "inwhat Flora says. "

"Only let me come across him, that's all, " said Admiral Bell, "and I'llsoon find out what he is. I suppose he's some long slab of a lubberafter all, ain't he, with no strength. "

"His strength is immense, " said Marchdale. "I tried to seize him, and Ifell beneath his arm as if I had been struck by the hammer of aCyclops. "

"A what?" cried the admiral. 

"A Cyclops. "

"D--n me, I served aboard the Cyclops eleven years, and never saw a verybig hammer aboard of her. "

"What on earth is to be done?" said Henry. "

"Oh, " chimed in the admiral, "there's always a bother about what's to bedone on earth. Now, at sea, I could soon tell you what was to be done. "

"We must hold a solemn consultation over this matter, " said Henry. "Youare safe now, Flora. "

"Oh, be ruled by me. Give up the Hall. "

"You tremble. "

"I do tremble, brother, for what may yet ensue. I implore you to give upthe Hall. It is but a terror to us now--give it up. Have no more to dowith it. Let us make terms with Sir Francis Varney. Remember, we darenot kill him. "

"He ought to be smothered, " said the admiral. 

"It is true, " remarked Henry, "we dare not, even holding all theterrible suspicions we do, take his life. "

"By foul means certainly not, " said Charles, "were he ten times avampyre. I cannot, however, believe that he is so invulnerable as he isrepresented. "

"No one represents him here, " said Marchdale. "I speak, sir, because Isaw you glance at me. I only know that, having made two unsuccessfulattempts to seize him, he eluded me, once by leaving in my grasp a pieceof his coat, and the next time he struck me down, and I feel yet theeffects of the terrific blow. "

"You hear?" said Flora. 

"Yes, I hear, " said Charles. 

"For some reason, " added Marchdale, in a tone of emotion, "what I sayseems to fall always badly upon Mr. Holland's ear. I know not why; butif it will give him any satisfaction, I will leave Bannerworth Hallto-night. "

"No, no, no, " said Henry; "for the love of Heaven, do not let usquarrel. "

"Hear, hear, " cried the admiral. "We can never fight the enemy well ifthe ship's crew are on bad terms. Come now, you Charles, this appears tobe an honest, gentlemanly fellow--give him your hand. "

"If Mr. Charles Holland, " said Marchdale, "knows aught to my prejudicein any way, however slight, I here beg of him to declare it at once, andopenly. "

"I cannot assert that I do, " said Charles. 

"Then what the deuce do you make yourself so disagreeable for, eh?"cried the admiral. 

"One cannot help one's impression and feelings, " said Charles; "but I amwilling to take Mr. Marchdale's hand. "

"And I yours, young sir, " said Marchdale, "in all sincerity of spirit, and with good will towards you. "

They shook hands; but it required no conjuror to perceive that it wasnot done willingly or cordially. It was a handshaking of that characterwhich seemed to imply on each side, "I don't like you, but I don't knowpositively any harm of you. "

"There now, " said the admiral, "that's better. "

"Now, let us hold counsel about this Varney, " said Henry. "Come to theparlour all of you, and we will endeavour to come to some decidedarrangement. "

"Do not weep, mother, " said Flora. "All may yet be well. We will leavethis place. "

"We will consider that question, Flora, " said Henry; "and believe meyour wishes will go a long way with all of us, as you may well supposethey always would. "

They left Mrs. Bannerworth with Flora, and proceeded to the small oakenparlour, in which were the elaborate and beautiful carvings which havebeen before mentioned. 

Henry's countenance, perhaps, wore the most determined expression ofall. He appeared now as if he had thoroughly made up his mind to dosomething which should have a decided tendency to put a stop to theterrible scenes which were now day by day taking place beneath thatroof. 

Charles Holland looked serious and thoughtful, as if he were revolvingsome course of action in his mind concerning which he was not quiteclear. 

Mr. Marchdale was more sad and depressed, to all appearance, than any ofthem. 

At for the admiral, he was evidently in a state of amazement, and knewnot what to think. He was anxious to do something, and yet what that wasto be he had not the most remote idea, any more than as if he was not atall cognisant of any of those circumstances, every one of which was socompletely out of the line of his former life and experience. 

George had gone to call on Mr. Chillingworth, so he was not present atthe first part of this serious council of war. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE CONSULTATION. --THE DETERMINATION TO LEAVE THE HALL. 

[Illustration]

This was certainly the most seriously reasonable meeting which had beenheld at Bannerworth Hall on the subject of the much dreaded vampyre. Theabsolute necessity for doing something of a decisive character wasabundantly apparent, and when Henry promised Flora that her earnest wishto leave the house should not be forgotten as an element in thediscussion which was about to ensue, it was with a rapidly growingfeeling on his own part, to the effect that that house, associated evenas it was with many endearing recollections, was no home for him. 

Hence he was the more inclined to propose a departure from the Hall ifit could possibly be arranged satisfactorily in a pecuniary point ofview. The pecuniary point of view, however, in which Henry was compelledto look at the subject, was an important and a troublesome one. 

We have already hinted at the very peculiar state of the finances of thefamily; and, in fact, although the income derivable from various sourcesought to have been amply sufficient to provide Henry, and those who weredependent upon him, with a respectable livelihood, yet it was nearly allswallowed up by the payment of regular instalments upon family debtsincurred by his father. And the creditors took great credit tothemselves that they allowed of such an arrangement, instead of sweepingoff all before them, and leaving the family to starve. 

The question, therefore, or, at all events, one of the questions, nowwas, how far would a departure from the Hall of him, Henry, and theother branches of the family, act upon that arrangement?

During a very few minutes' consideration, Henry, with the frank andcandid disposition which was so strong a characteristic of hischaracter, made up his mind to explain all this fully to Charles Hollandand his uncle. 

When once he formed such a determination he was not likely to be slow incarrying it into effect, and no sooner, then, were the whole of themseated in the small oaken parlour than he made an explicit statement ofhis circumstances. 

"But, " said Mr. Marchdale, when he had done, "I cannot see what rightyour creditors have to complain of where you live, so long as youperform your contract to them. "

"True; but they always expected me, I knew, to remain at the Hall, andif they chose, why, of course, at any time, they could sell off thewhole property for what it would fetch, and pay themselves as far as theproceeds would go. At all events, I am quite certain there could benothing at all left for me. "

"I cannot imagine, " added Mr. Marchdale, "that any men could be sounreasonable. "

"It is scarcely to be borne, " remarked Charles Holland, with moreimpatience than he usually displayed, "that a whole family are to be putto the necessity of leaving their home for no other reason than thebeing pestered by such a neighbour as Sir Francis Varney. It makes oneimpatient and angry to reflect upon such a state of things. "

"And yet they are lamentably true, " said Henry. "What can we do?"

"Surely there must be some sort of remedy. "

"There is but one that I can imagine, and that is one we all alikerevolt from. We might kill him. "

"That is out of the question. "

"Of course my impression is that he bears the same name really asmyself, and that he is my ancestor, from whom was painted the portraiton the panel. "

"Have circumstances really so far pressed upon you, " said CharlesHolland, "as at length to convince you that this man is really thehorrible creature we surmise he may be?"

"Dare we longer doubt it?" cried Henry, in a tone of excitement. "He isthe vampyre. "

"I'll be hanged if I believe it, " said Admiral Bell! "Stuff andnonsense! Vampyre, indeed! Bother the vampyre. "

"Sir, " said Henry, "you have not had brought before you, painfully, aswe have, all the circumstances upon which we, in a manner, feelcompelled to found this horrible belief. At first incredulity was anatural thing. We had no idea that ever we could be brought to believein such a thing. "

"That is the case, " added Marchdale. "But, step by step, we have beendriven from utter disbelief in this phenomenon to a trembling convictionthat it must be true. "

"Unless we admit that, simultaneously, the senses of a number of personshave been deceived. "

"That is scarcely possible. "

"Then do you mean really to say there are such fish?" said the admiral. 

"We think so. "

"Well, I'm d----d! I have heard all sorts of yarns about what fellowshave seen in one ocean and another; but this does beat them all tonothing. "

"It is monstrous, " exclaimed Charles. 

There was a pause of some few moments' duration, and then Mr. Marchdalesaid, in a low voice, --

"Perhaps I ought not to propose any course of action until you, Henry, have yourself done so; but even at the risk of being presumptuous, Iwill say that I am firmly of opinion you ought to leave the Hall. "

"I am inclined to think so, too, " said Henry. 

"But the creditors?" interposed Charles. 

"I think they might be consulted on the matter beforehand, " addedMarchdale, "when no doubt they would acquiesce in an arrangement whichcould do them no harm. "

"Certainly, no harm, " said Henry, "for I cannot take the estate with me, as they well know. "

"Precisely. If you do not like to sell it, you can let it. "

"To whom?"

"Why, under the existing circumstances, it is not likely you would getany tenant for it than the one who has offered himself. "

"Sir Francis Varney?"

"Yes. It seems to be a great object with him to live here, and itappears to me, that notwithstanding all that has occurred, it is mostdecidedly the best policy to let him. "

Nobody could really deny the reasonableness of this advice, although itseemed strange, and was repugnant to the feelings of them all, as theyheard it. There was a pause of some seconds' duration, and then Henrysaid, --

"It does, indeed, seem singular, to surrender one's house to such abeing. "

"Especially, " said Charles, "after what has occurred. "

"True. "

"Well, " said Mr. Marchdale, "if any better plan of proceeding, takingthe whole case into consideration, can be devised, I shall be mosthappy. "

"Will you consent to put off all proceedings for three days?" saidCharles Holland, suddenly. 

"Have you any plan, my dear sir?" said Mr. Marchdale. 

"I have, but it is one which I would rather say nothing about for thepresent. "

"I have no objection, " said Henry, "I do not know that three days canmake any difference in the state of affairs. Let it be so, if you wish, Charles. "

"Then I am satisfied, " said Charles. "I cannot but feel that, situatedas I am regarding Flora, this is almost more my affair than even yours, Henry. "

"I cannot see that, " said Henry. "Why should you take upon yourself moreof the responsibility of these affairs than I, Charles? You induce in mymind a suspicion that you have some desperate project in yourimagination, which by such a proposition you would seek to reconcile meto. "

Charles was silent, and Henry then added, --

"Now, Charles, I am quite convinced that what I have hinted at is thefact. You have conceived some scheme which you fancy would be muchopposed by us?"

"I will not deny that I have, " said Charles. "It is one, however, whichyou must allow me for the present to keep locked in my own breast. "

"Why will you not trust us?"

"For two reasons. "

"Indeed!"

"The one is, that I have not yet thoroughly determined upon the course Iproject; and the other is, that it is one in which I am not justified ininvolving any one else. "

"Charles, Charles, " said Henry, despondingly; "only consider for amoment into what new misery you may plunge poor Flora, who is, Heavenknows, already sufficiently afflicted, by attempting an enterprise whicheven we, who are your friends, may unwittingly cross you in theperformance of. "

"This is one in which I fear no such result. It cannot so happen. Do noturge me. "

"Can't you say at once what you think of doing?" said the old admiral. "What do you mean by turning your sails in all sorts of directions sooddly? You sneak, why don't you be what do you call it--explicit?"

"I cannot, uncle. "

"What, are you tongue-tied?"

"All here know well, " said Charles, "that if I do not unfold my mindfully, it is not that I fear to trust any one present, but from someother most special reason. "

"Charles, I forbear to urge you further, " said Henry, "and only imploreyou to be careful. "

At this moment the room door opened, and George Bannerworth, accompaniedby Mr. Chillingworth, came in. 

"Do not let me intrude, " said the surgeon; "I fear, as I see you seated, gentlemen, that my presence must be a rudeness and a disturbance to somefamily consultation among yourselves?"

"Not at all, Mr. Chillingworth, " said Henry. "Pray be seated; we arevery glad indeed to see you. Admiral Bell, this is a friend on whom wecan rely--Mr. Chillingworth. "

"And one of the right sort, I can see, " said the admiral, as he shookMr. Chillingworth by the hand. 

"Sir, you do me much honour, " said the doctor. 

"None at all, none at all; I suppose you know all about this infernalodd vampyre business?"

"I believe I do, sir. "

"And what do you think of it?"

"I think time will develop the circumstances sufficiently to convince usall that such things cannot be. "

"D--n me, you are the most sensible fellow, then, that I have yet metwith since I have been in this neighbourhood; for everybody else is soconvinced about the vampyre, that they are ready to swear by him. "

"It would take much more to convince me. I was coming over here when Imet Mr. George Bannerworth coming to my house. "

"Yes, " said George, "and Mr. Chillingworth has something to tell us of anature confirmatory of our own suspicions. "

"It is strange, " said Henry; "but any piece of news, come it from whatquarter it may, seems to be confirmatory, in some degree or another, ofthat dreadful belief in vampyres. "

"Why, " said the doctor, "when Mr. George says that my news is of such acharacter, I think he goes a little too far. What I have to tell you, Ido not conceive has anything whatever to do with the fact, or one factof there being vampyres. "

"Let us hear it, " said Henry. 

"It is simply this, that I was sent for by Sir Francis Varney myself. "

"You sent for?"

"Yes; he sent for me by a special messenger to come to him, and when Iwent, which, under the circumstances, you may well guess, I did with allthe celerity possible, I found it was to consult me about a flesh woundin his arm, which was showing some angry symptoms. "

"Indeed. "

"Yes, it was so. When I was introduced to him I found him lying on acouch, and looking pale and unwell. In the most respectful manner, heasked me to be seated, and when I had taken a chair, he added, --

"'Mr. Chillingworth, I have sent for you in consequence of a slightaccident which has happened to my arm. I was incautiously loading somefire-arms, and discharged a pistol so close to me that the bulletinflicted a wound on my arm. '

"'If you will allow me, " said I, 'to see the wound, I will give you myopinion. '

"He then showed me a jagged wound, which had evidently been caused bythe passage of a bullet, which, had it gone a little deeper, must haveinflicted serious injury. As it was, the wound was but trifling. 

"He had evidently been attempting to dress it himself, but finding someconsiderable inflammation, he very likely got a little alarmed. "

"You dressed the wound?"

"I did. "

"And what do you think of Sir Francis Varney, now that you have had socapital an opportunity, " said Henry, "of a close examination of him?"

"Why, there is certainly something odd about him which I cannot welldefine, but, take him altogether, he can be a very gentlemanly manindeed. "

"So he can. "

"His manners are easy and polished; he has evidently mixed in goodsociety, and I never, in all my life, heard such a sweet, soft, winningvoice. "

"That is strictly him. You noticed, I presume, his great likeness to theportrait on the panel?"

"I did. At some moments, and viewing his face in some particular lights, it showed much more strongly than at others. My impression was that hecould, when he liked, look much more like the portrait on the panel thanwhen he allowed his face to assume its ordinary appearance. "

"Probably such an impression would be produced upon your mind, " saidCharles, "by some accidental expression of the countenance which even hewas not aware of, and which often occurs in families. "

"It may be so. "

"Of course you did not hint, sir, at what has passed here with regard tohim?" said Henry. 

"I did not. Being, you see, called in professionally, I had no right totake advantage of that circumstance to make any remarks to him about hisprivate affairs. "

"Certainly not. "

"It was all one to me whether he was a vampyre or not, professionally, and however deeply I might feel, personally, interested in the matter, Isaid nothing to him about it, because, you see, if I had, he would havehad a fair opportunity of saying at once, 'Pray, sir, what is that toyou?' and I should have been at a loss what to reply. "

"Can we doubt, " said Henry, "but that this very wound has been inflictedupon Sir Francis Varney, by the pistol-bullet which was discharged athim by Flora?"

"Everything leads to such an assumption certainly, " said CharlesHolland. 

"And yet you cannot even deduce from that the absolute fact of SirFrancis Varney being a vampyre?"

"I do not think, Mr. Chillingworth, " said Marchdale, "anything wouldconvince you but a visit from him, and an actual attempt to fasten uponsome of your own veins. "

"That would not convince me, " said Chillingworth. 

"Then you will not be convinced?"

"I certainly will not. I mean to hold out to the last. I said at thefirst, and I say so still, that I never will give way to this mostoutrageous superstition. "

"I wish I could think with you, " said Marchdale, with a shudder; "butthere may be something in the very atmosphere of this house which hasbeen rendered hideous by the awful visits that have been made to it, which forbids me to disbelieve in those things which others more happilysituated can hold at arm's length, and utterly repudiate. "

"There may be, " said Henry; "but as to that, I think, after the verystrongly expressed wish of Flora, I will decide upon leaving the house. "

"Will you sell it or let it?"

"The latter I should much prefer, " was the reply. 

"But who will take it now, except Sir Francis Varney? Why not at oncelet him have it? I am well aware that this does sound odd advice, butremember, we are all the creatures of circumstances, and that, in somecases where we least like it, we must swim with the stream. "

"That you will not decide upon, however, at present, " said CharlesHolland, as he rose. 

"Certainly not; a few days can make no difference. "

"None for the worse, certainly, and possibly much for the better. "

"Be it so; we will wait. "

"Uncle, " said Charles, "will you spare me half an hour of your company?"

"An hour, my boy, if you want it, " said the admiral, rising from hischair. 

"Then this consultation is over, " said Henry, "and we quite understandthat to leave the Hall is a matter determined on, and that in a few daysa decision shall be come to as to whether Varney the Vampyre shall beits tenant or not. "

CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE ADMIRAL'S ADVICE TO CHARLES HOLLAND. --THE CHALLENGE TO THE VAMPYRE. 

[Illustration]

When Charles Holland got his uncle into a room by themselves, he said, --

"Uncle, you are a seaman, and accustomed to decide upon matters ofhonour. I look upon myself as having been most grievously insulted bythis Sir Francis Varney. All accounts agree in representing him as agentleman. He goes openly by a title, which, if it were not his, couldeasily be contradicted; therefore, on the score of position in life, there is no fault to find with him. What would you do if you wereinsulted by a gentleman?"

The old admiral's eyes sparkled, and he looked comically in the face ofCharles, as he said, --

"I know now where you are steering. "

"What would you do, uncle?"

"Fight him!"

"I knew you would say so, and that's just what I want to do as regardsSir Francis Varney. "

"Well, my boy, I don't know that you can do better. He must be athundering rascal, whether he is a vampyre or not; so if you feel thathe has insulted you, fight him by all means, Charles. "

"I am much pleased, uncle, to find that you take my view of thesubject, " said Charles. "I knew that if I mentioned such a thing to theBannerworths, they would endeavour all in their power to pursuade meagainst it. "

"Yes, no doubt; because they are all impressed with a strange fear ofthis fellow's vampyre powers. Besides, if a man is going to fight, thefewer people he mentions it to most decidedly the better, Charles. "

"I believe that is the fact, uncle. Should I overcome Varney, there willmost likely be at once an end to the numerous and uncomfortableperplexities of the Bannerworths as regards him; and if he overcome me, why, then, at all events, I shall have made an effort to rescue Florafrom the dread of this man. "

"And then he shall fight me, " added the admiral, "so he shall have twochances, at all events, Charles. "

"Nay, uncle, that would, you know, scarcely be fair. Besides, if Ishould fall, I solemnly bequeath Flora Bannerworth to your good offices. I much fear that the pecuniary affairs of poor Henry, --from no fault ofhis, Heaven knows, --are in a very bad state, and that Flora may yet liveto want some kind and able friend. "

"Never fear, Charles. The young creature shall never want while the oldadmiral has got a shot in the locker. "

"Thank you, uncle, thank you. I have ample cause to know, and to be ableto rely upon your kind and generous nature. And now about thechallenge?"

"You write it, boy, and I'll take it. "

"Will you second me, uncle?"

"To be sure I will. I wouldn't trust anybody else to do so on anyaccount. You leave all the arrangements with me, and I'll second you asyou ought to be seconded. "

"Then I will write it at once, for I have received injuries at the handsof that man, or devil, be he what he may, that I cannot put up with. Hisvisit to the chamber of her whom I love would alone constitute ampleground of action. "

"I should say it rather would, my boy. "

"And after this corroborative story of the wound, I cannot for a momentdoubt that Sir Francis Varney is the vampyre, or the personifier of thevampyre. "

"That's clear enough, Charles. Come, just you write your challenge, myboy, at once, and let me have it. "

"I will, uncle. "

Charles was a little astonished, although pleased, at his uncle's readyacquiescence in his fighting a vampyre, but that circumstance heascribed to the old man's habits of life, which made him so familiarwith strife and personal contentions of all sorts, that he did notascribe to it that amount of importance which more peaceable people did. Had he, while he was writing the note to Sir Francis Varney, seen theold admiral's face, and the exceedingly cunning look it wore, he mighthave suspected that the acquiescence in the duel was but a seemingacquiescence. This, however, escaped him, and in a few moments he readto his uncle the following note:--

 "To SIR FRANCIS VARNEY. 

 "Sir, --The expressions made use of towards me by you, as well as general circumstances, which I need not further allude to here, induce me to demand of you that satisfaction due from one gentleman to another. My uncle, Admiral Bell, is the bearer of this note, and will arrange preliminaries with any friend you may choose to appoint to act in your behalf. I am, sir, yours, &c. 

 "CHARLES HOLLAND. "

"Will that do?" said Charles. 

"Capital!" said the admiral. 

"I am glad you like it. "

"Oh, I could not help liking it. The least said and the most to thepurpose, always pleases me best; and this explains nothing, and demandsall you want--which is a fight; so it's all right, you see, and nothingcan be possibly better. "

Charles did glance in his uncle's face, for he suspected, from themanner in which these words were uttered, that the old man was amusinghimself a little at his expense. The admiral, however, looked sosupernaturally serious that Charles was foiled. 

"I repeat, it's a capital letter, " he said. 

"Yes, you said so. "

"Well, what are you staring at?"

"Oh, nothing. "

"Do you doubt my word?"

"Not at all, uncle; only I thought there was a degree of irony in themanner in which you spoke. "

"None at all, my boy. I never was more serious in all my life. "

"Very good. Then you will remember that I leave my honour in this affaircompletely in your hands. "

"Depend upon me, my boy. "

"I will, and do. "

"I'll be off and see the fellow at once. "

The admiral bustled out of the room, and in a few moments Charles heardhim calling loudly, --

"Jack--Jack Pringle, you lubber, where are you?--Jack Pringle, I say. "

"Ay, ay, sir, " said Jack, emerging from the kitchen, where he had beenmaking himself generally useful in assisting Mrs. Bannerworth, therebeing no servant in the house, to cook some dinner for the family. 

"Come on, you rascal, we are going for a walk. "

"The rations will be served out soon, " growled Jack. 

"We shall be back in time, you cormorant, never fear. You are alwaysthinking of eating and drinking, you are, Jack; and I'll be hanged if Ithink you ever think of anything else. Come on, will you; I'm going onrather a particular cruise just now, so mind what you are about. "

"Aye, aye, sir, " said the tar, and these two originals, who so perfectlyunderstood each other, walked away, conversing as they went, and theirdifferent voices coming upon the ear of Charles, until distanceobliterated all impression of the sound. 

Charles paced to and fro in the room where he had held this brief andconclusive conversation with his uncle. He was thoughtful, as any onemight well be who knew not but that the next four-and-twenty hours wouldbe the limit of his sojourn in this world. 

"Oh, Flora--Flora!" he at length said, "how happy we might to have beentogether--how happy we might have been! but all is past now, and thereseems nothing left us but to endure. There it but one chance, and thatis in my killing this fearful man who is invested with so dreadful anexistence. And if I do kill him in fair and in open fight, I will takecare that his mortal frame has no power again to revisit the glimpses ofthe moon. "

It was strange to imagine that such was the force of many concurrentcircumstances, that a young man like Charles Holland, of first-rateabilities and education, should find it necessary to give in so far to abelief which was repugnant to all his best feelings and habits ofthought, as to be reasoning with himself upon the best means ofpreventing the resuscitation of the corpse of a vampyre. But so it was. His imagination had yielded to a succession of events which very fewpersons indeed could have held out against. 

"I have heard and read, " he said, as he continued his agitated anduneasy walk, "of how these dreadful beings are to be in their graves. Ihave heard of stakes being driven through the body so as to pin it tothe earth until the gradual progress of decay has rendered itsrevivification a thing of utter and total impossibility. Then, again, "he added, after a slight pause, "I have heard of their being burned, andthe ashes gathered to the winds of Heaven to prevent them from everagain uniting or assuming human form. "

[Illustration]

These were disagreeable and strange fancies, and he shuddered while heindulged in them. He felt a kind of trembling horror come over him evenat the thought of engaging in conflict with a being, who perhaps, hadlived more than a hundred years. 

"That portrait, " he thought, "on the panel, is the portrait of a man inthe prime of life. If it be the portrait of Sir Francis Varney, by thedate which the family ascribe to it he must be nearly one hundred andfifty years of age now. "

This was a supposition which carried the imagination to a vast amount ofstrange conjectures. 

"What changes he must have witnessed about him in that time, " thoughtCharles. "How he must have seen kingdoms totter and fall, and how manychanges of habits, of manners, and of customs must he have become aspectator of. Renewing too, ever and anon, his fearful existence by suchfearful means. "

This was a wide field of conjecture for a fertile imagination, and nowthat he was on the eve of engaging with such a being in mortal combat, on behalf of her he loved, the thoughts it gave rise to came morestrongly and thickly upon him than ever they had done before. 

"But I will fight him, " he suddenly said, "for Flora's sake, were he ahundred times more hideous a being than so many evidences tend to provehim. I will fight with him, and it may be my fate to rid the world ofsuch a monster in human form. "

Charles worked himself up to a kind of enthusiasm by which he almostsucceeded in convincing himself that, in attempting the destruction ofSir Francis Varney, he was the champion of human nature. 

It would be aside from the object of these pages, which is to recordfacts as they occurred, to enter into the metaphysical course ofreasoning which came across Charles's mind; suffice it to say that hefelt nothing shaken as regarded his resolve to meet Varney the Vampyre, and that he made up his mind the conflict should be one of life ordeath. 

"It must be so, " he said. "It must be so. Either he or I must fall inthe fight which shall surely be. "

He now sought Flora, for how soon might he now be torn from her for everby the irresistible hand of death. He felt that, during the few briefhours which now would only elapse previous to his meeting with SirFrancis Varney, he could not enjoy too much of the society of her whoreigned supreme in his heart, and held in her own keeping his bestaffections. 

But while Charles is thus employed, let us follow his uncle and JackPringle to the residence of Varney, which, as the reader is aware, wasso near at hand that it required not many minutes' sharp walking toreach it. 

The admiral knew well he could trust Jack with any secret, for longhabits of discipline and deference to the orders of superiors takes offthe propensity to blabbing which, among civilians who are not accustomedto discipline, is so very prevalent. The old man therefore explained toJack what he meant to do, and it received Jack's full approval; but asin the enforced detail of other matters it must come out, we will nothere prematurely enter into the admiral's plans. 

When they reached the residence of Sir Francis Varney, they werereceived courteously enough, and the admiral desired Jack to wait forhim in the handsome hall of the house, while he was shewn up stairs tothe private room of the vampyre. 

"Confound the fellow!" muttered the old admiral, "he is well lodged atall events. I should say he was not one of those sort of vampyres whohave nowhere to go to but their own coffins when the evening comes. "

The room into which the admiral was shewn had green blinds to it, andthey were all drawn down. It is true that the sun was shining brightlyoutside, although transiently, but still a strange green tinge wasthrown over everything in the room, and more particularly did it appearto fall upon the face of Varney, converting his usually sallowcountenance into a still more hideous and strange colour. He was sittingupon a couch, and, when the admiral came in, he rose, and said, in adeep-toned voice, extremely different to that he usually spoke in, --

"My humble home is much honoured, sir, by your presence in it. "

"Good morning, " said the admiral. "I have come to speak to you, sir, rather seriously. "

"However abrupt this announcement may sound to me, " said Varney, "I amquite sure I shall always hear, with the most profound respect, whateverAdmiral Bell may have to say. "

"There is no respect required, " said the admiral, "but only a littleattention. "

Sir Francis bowed in a stately manner, saying, --

"I shall be quite unhappy if you will not be seated, Admiral Bell. "

"Oh, never mind that, Sir Francis Varney, if you be Sir Francis Varney;for you may be the devil himself, for all I know. My nephew, CharlesHolland, considers that, one way and another, he has a very tolerablequarrel with you. "

"I much grieve to hear it. "

"Do you?"

"Believe me, I do. I am most scrupulous in what I say; and an assertionthat I am grieved, you may thoroughly and entirely depend upon. "

"Well, well, never mind that; Charles Holland is a young man justentering into life. He loves a girl who is, I think, every way worthy ofhim. "

"Oh, what a felicitous prospect!"

"Just hear me out, if you please. "

"With pleasure, sir--with pleasure. "

"Well, then, when a young, hot-headed fellow thinks he has a good groundof quarrel with anybody, you will not be surprised at his wanting tofight it out. "

"Not at all. "

"Well, then, to come to the point, my nephew, Charles Holland, has afancy for fighting with you. "

"Ah!"

"You take it d----d easy. "

"My dear sir, why should I be uneasy? He is not my nephew, you know. Ishall have no particular cause, beyond those feelings of commoncompassion which I hope inhabit my breast as well as every one else's. "

"What do you mean?"

"Why, he is a young man just, as you say, entering into life, and Icannot help thinking it would be a pity to cut him off like a flower inthe bud, so very soon. "

"Oh, you make quite sure, then, of settling him, do you?"

"My dear sir, only consider; he might be very troublesome, indeed; youknow young men are hot-headed and troublesome. Even if I were only tomaim him, he might be a continual and never-ceasing annoyance to me. Ithink I should be absolutely, in a manner of speaking, compelled to cuthim off. "

"The devil you do!"

"As you say, sir. "

"D--n your assurance, Mr. Vampyre, or whatever odd fish you may be. "

"Admiral Bell, I never called upon you and received a courteousreception, and then insulted you. "

"Then why do you talk of cutting off a better man than yourself? D--nit, what would you say to him cutting you off?"

"Oh, as for me, my good sir, that's quite another thing. Cutting me offis very doubtful. "

Sir Francis Varney gave a strange smile as he spoke, and shook his head, as if some most extraordinary and extravagant proposition had beenmooted, which it was scarcely worth the while of anybody possessed ofcommon sense to set about expecting. 

Admiral Bell felt strongly inclined to get into a rage, but he repressedthe idea as much as he could, although, but for the curious faint greenlight that came through the blinds, his heightened colour would havesufficiently proclaimed what state of mind he was in. 

"Mr. Varney, " he said, "all this is quite beside the question; but, atall events, if it have any weight at all, it ought to have aconsiderable influence in deciding you to accept of what terms Ipropose. "

"What are they, sir?"

"Why, that you permit me to espouse my nephew Charles's quarrel, andmeet you instead of him. "

"You meet me?"

"Yes; I've met a better man more than once before. It can make nodifference to you. "

"I don't know that, Admiral Bell. One generally likes, in a duel, toface him with whom one has had the misunderstanding, be it on whatgrounds it may. "

"There's some reason, I know, in what you say; but, surely, if I amwilling, you need not object. "

"And is your nephew willing thus to shift the danger and the job ofresenting his own quarrels on to your shoulders?"

"No; he knows nothing about it. He has written you a challenge, of whichI am the bearer, but I voluntarily, and of my own accord, wish to meetyou instead. "

"This is a strange mode of proceeding. "

"If you will not accede to it, and fight him first, and any harm comesto him, you shall fight me afterwards. "

"Indeed. "

"Yes, indeed you shall, however surprised you may look. "

"As this appears to be quite a family affair, then, " said Sir FrancisVarney, "it certainly does appear immaterial which of you I fight withfirst. "

"Quite so; now you take a sensible view of the question. Will you meetme?"

"I have no particular objection. Have you settled all your affairs, andmade your will?"

"What's that to you?"

"Oh, I only asked, because there is generally so much food forlitigation if a man dies intestate, and is worth any money. "

"You make devilish sure, " said the admiral, "of being the victor. Haveyou made your will?"

"Oh, my will, " smiled Sir Francis; "that, my good sir, is quite anindifferent affair. "

"Well, make it or not, as you like. I am old, I know, but I can pull atrigger as well as any one. "

"Do what?"

"Pull a trigger. "

"Why, you don't suppose I resort to any such barbarous modes offighting?"

"Barbarous! Why, how do you fight then?"

"As a gentleman, with my sword. "

"Swords! Oh, nonsense! nobody fights with swords now-a-days. That's allexploded. "

"I cling to the customs and the fashions of my youth, " said Varney. "Ihave been, years ago, accustomed always to wear a sword, and to bewithout one now vexes me. "

"Pray, how many years ago?"

"I am older than I look, but that is not the question. I am willing tomeet you with swords if you like. You are no doubt aware that, as thechallenged party, I am entitled to the choice of weapons. "

"I am. "

"Then you cannot object to my availing myself of the one in the use ofwhich I am perfectly unequalled. "

"Indeed. "

"Yes, I am, I think, the first swordsman in Europe; I have had immensepractice. "

"Well, sir, you have certainly made a most unexpected choice of weapons. I can use a sword still, but am by no means a master of fencing. However, it shall not be said that I went back from my word, and let thechances be as desperate as they may, I will meet you. "

"Very good. "

"With swords?"

"Ay, with swords; but I must have everything properly arranged, so thatno blame can rest on me, you know. As you will be killed, you are safefrom all consequences, but I shall be in a very different position; so, if you please, I must have this meeting got up in such a manner as shallenable me to prove, to whoever may question me on the subject, that youhad fair play. "

"Oh, never fear that. "

"But I do fear it. The world, my good sir, is censorious, and you cannotstop people from saying extremely ill-natured things. "

"What do you require, then?"

"I require you to send me a friend with a formal challenge. "

"Well?"

"Then I shall refer him to a friend of mine, and they two must settleeverything between them. "

"Is that all?"

"Not quite. I will have a surgeon on the ground, in case, when I pinkyou, there should be a chance of saving your life. It always lookshumane. "

"When you pink me?"

"Precisely. "

"Upon my word, you take these affairs easy. I suppose you have had a fewof them?"

"Oh, a good number. People like yourself worry me into them, I don'tlike the trouble, I assure you; it is no amusement to me. I wouldrather, by a great deal, make some concession than fight, because I willfight with swords, and the result is then so certain that there is nodanger in the matter to me. "

"Hark you, Sir Francis Varney. You are either a very clever actor, or aman, as you say, of such skill with your sword, that you can make sureof the result of a duel. You know, therefore, that it is not fair playon your part to fight a duel with that weapon. "

"Oh, I beg your pardon there. I never challenge anybody, and whenfoolish people will call me out, contrary to my inclination, I think Iam bound to take what care of myself I can. "

"D--n me, there's some reason in that, too, " said the admiral; "but whydo you insult people?"

"People insult me first. "

"Oh, nonsense!"

"How should you like to be called a vampyre, and stared at as if youwere some hideous natural phenomenon?"

"Well, but--"

"I say, Admiral Bell, how should you like it? I am a harmless countrygentleman, and because, in the heated imaginations of some member of acrack-brained family, some housebreaker has been converted into avampyre, I am to be pitched upon as the man, and insulted and persecutedaccordingly. "

"But you forget the proofs. "

"What proofs?"

"The portrait, for one. "

"What! Because there is an accidental likeness between me and an oldpicture, am I to be set down as a vampyre? Why, when I was in Austrialast, I saw an old portrait of a celebrated court fool, and you sostrongly resemble it, that I was quite struck when I first saw you withthe likeness; but I was not so unpolite as to tell you that I consideredyou were the court fool turned vampyre. "

"D--n your assurance!"

"And d--n yours, if you come to that. "

The admiral was fairly beaten. Sir Francis Varney was by far toolong-headed and witty for him. After now in vain endeavouring to findsomething to say, the old man buttoned up his coat in a great passion, and looking fiercely at Varney, he said, --"I don't pretend to a gift ofthe gab. D--n me, it ain't one of my peculiarities; but though you maytalk me down, you sha'n't keep me down. "

"Very good, sir. "

"It is not very good. You shall hear from me. "

"I am willing. "

"I don't care whether you are willing or not. You shall find that whenonce I begin to tackle an enemy, I don't so easily leave him. One orboth of us, sir, is sure to sink. "

"Agreed. "

"So say I. You shall find that I'm a tar for all weathers, and if youwere a hundred and fifty vampires all rolled into one, I'd tackle yousomehow. "

The admiral walked to the door in high dudgeon; when he was near to it, Varney said, in some of his most winning and gentle accents, --

"Will you not take some refreshment, sir before you go from my humblehouse?"

"No!" roared the admiral. 

"Something cooling?"

"No!"

"Very good, sir. A hospitable host can do no more than offer toentertain his guests. "

Admiral Bell turned at the door, and said, with some degree of intensebitterness, "You look rather poorly. I suppose, to-night, you will go and sucksomebody's blood, you shark--you confounded vampyre! You ought to bemade to swallow a red-hot brick, and then let dance about till itdigests. "

Varney smiled as he rang the bell, and said to a servant, --

"Show my very excellent friend Admiral Bell out. He will not take anyrefreshments. "

The servant bowed, and preceded the admiral down the staircase; but, tohis great surprise, instead of a compliment in the shape of a shillingor half-a-crown for his pains, he received a tremendous kick behind, with a request to go and take it to his master, with his compliments. 

The fume that the old admiral was in beggars all description. He walkedto Bannerworth Hall at such a rapid pace, that Jack Pringle had thegreatest difficulty in the world to keep up with him, so as to be at allwithin speaking distance. 

"Hilloa, Jack, " cried the old man, when they were close to the Hall. "Did you see me kick that fellow?"

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"Well, that's some consolation, at any rate, if somebody saw it. Itought to have been his master, that's all I can say to it, and I wish ithad. "

"How have you settled it, sir?"

"Settled what?"

"The fight, sir. "

"D--n me, Jack, I haven't settled it at all. "

"That's bad, sir. "

"I know it is; but it shall be settled for all that, I can tell him, lethim vapour as much as he may about pinking me, and one thing andanother. "

"Pinking you, sir?"

"Yes. He wants to fight with cutlasses, or toasting-forks, d--n me, Idon't know exactly which, and then he must have a surgeon on the ground, for fear when he pinks me I shouldn't slip my cable in a regular way, and he should be blamed. "

Jack gave a long whistle, as he replied, --

"Going to do it, sir?"

"I don't know now what I'm going to do. Mind, Jack, mum is the word. "

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"I'll turn the matter over in my mind, and then decide upon what hadbest be done. If he pinks me, I'll take d----d good care he don't pinkCharles. "

"No, sir, don't let him do that. A _wamphigher_, sir, ain't no goodopponent to anybody. I never seed one afore, but it strikes me as thebest way to settle him, would be to shut him up in some little bit of acabin, and then smoke him with brimstone, sir. "

"Well, well, I'll consider, Jack, I'll consider. Something must be done, and that quickly too. Zounds, here's Charles--what the deuce shall I sayto him, by way of an excuse, I wonder, for not arranging his affair withVarney? Hang me, if I ain't taken aback now, and don't know where toplace a hand. "

CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE LETTER TO CHARLES. --THE QUARREL. --THE ADMIRAL'S NARRATIVE. --THEMIDNIGHT MEETING. 

[Illustration]

It was Charles Holland who now advanced hurriedly to meet the admiral. The young man's manner was anxious. He was evidently most intent uponknowing what answer could be sent by Sir Francis Varney to hischallenge. 

"Uncle, " he said, "tell me at once, will he meet me? You can talk ofparticulars afterwards, but now tell me at once if he will meet me?"

"Why, as to that, " said the admiral, with a great deal of fidgettyhesitation, "you see, I can't exactly say. "

"Not say!"

"No. He's a very odd fish. Don't you think he's a very odd fish, JackPringle'?"

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"There, you hear, Charles, that Jack is of my opinion that your opponentis an odd fish. "

"But, uncle, why trifle with my impatience thus? Have you seen SirFrancis Varney?"

"Seen him. Oh, yes. "

"And what did he say?"

"Why, to tell the truth, my lad, I advise you not to fight with him atall. "

"Uncle, is this like you? This advice from you, to compromise my honour, after sending a man a challenge?"

"D--n it all, Jack, I don't know how to get out of it, " said theadmiral. "I tell you what it is, Charles, he wants to fight with swords;and what on earth is the use of your engaging with a fellow who has beenpractising at his weapon for more than a hundred years?"

"Well, uncle, if any one had told me that you would be terrified by thisSir Francis Varney into advising me not to fight, I should have had nohesitation whatever in saying such a thing was impossible. "

"I terrified?"

"Why, you advise me not to meet this man, even after I have challengedhim. "

"Jack, " said the admiral, "I can't carry it on, you see. I never couldgo on with anything that was not as plain as an anchor, and quitestraightforward. I must just tell all that has occurred. "

"Ay, ay, sir. The best way. "

"You think so, Jack?"

"I know it is, sir, always axing pardon for having a opinion at all, excepting when it happens to be the same as yourn, sir. "

"Hold your tongue, you libellous villain! Now, listen to me, Charles. Igot up a scheme of my own. "

Charles gave a groan, for he had a very tolerable appreciation of hisuncle's amount of skill in getting up a scheme of any kind ordescription. 

"Now here am I, " continued the admiral, "an old hulk, and not fit foruse anymore. What's the use of me, I should like to know? Well, that'ssettled. But you are young and hearty, and have a long life before you. Why should you throw away your life upon a lubberly vampyre?"

"I begin to perceive now, uncle, " said Charles, reproachfully, "why you, with such apparent readiness, agreed to this duel taking place. "

"Well, I intended to fight the fellow myself, that's the long and shortof it, boy. "

"How could you treat me so?"

"No nonsense, Charles. I tell you it was all in the family. I intendedto fight him myself. What was the odds whether I slipped my cable withhis assistance, or in the regular course a little after this? That's theway to argufy the subject; so, as I tell you, I made up my mind to fighthim myself. "

Charles looked despairingly, but said, --

"What was the result?"

"Oh, the result! D--n me, I suppose that's to come. The vagabond won'tfight like a Christian. He says he's quite willing to fight anybody thatcalls him out, provided it's all regular. "

"Well--well. "

"And he, being the party challenged--for he says he never himselfchallenges anybody, as he is quite tired of it--must have his choice ofweapons. "

"He is entitled to that; but it is generally understood now-a-days thatpistols are the weapons in use among gentlemen for such purposes. "

"Ah, but he won't understand any such thing, I tell you. He will fightwith swords. "

"I suppose he is, then, an adept at the use of the sword?"

"He says he is. "

"No doubt--no doubt. I cannot blame a man for choosing, when he has theliberty of choice, that weapon in the use of which he most particularly, from practice, excels. "

"Yes; but if he be one half the swordsman he has had time enough, according to all accounts, to be, what sort of chance have you withhim?"

"Do I hear you reasoning thus?"

"Yes, to be sure you do. I have turned wonderfully prudent, you see: soI mean to fight him myself, and mind, now, you have nothing whatever todo with it. "

"An effort of prudence that, certainly. "

"Well, didn't I say so?"

"Come--come, uncle, this won't do. I have challenged Sir Francis Varney, and I must meet him with any weapon he may, as the challenged party, choose to select. Besides, you are not, I dare say, aware that I am avery good fencer, and probably stand as fair a chance as Varney in acontest with swords. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, uncle. I could not be so long on the continent as I have beenwithout picking up a good knowledge of the sword, which is so popularall over Germany. "

"Humph! but only consider, this d----d fellow is no less than a hundredand fifty years old. "

"I care not. "

"Yes, but I do. "

"Uncle, uncle, I tell you I will fight with him; and if you do notarrange matters for me so that I can have the meeting with this man, which I have myself sought, and cannot, even if I wished, now recedefrom with honour, I must seek some other less scrupulous friend to doso. "

"Give me an hour or two to think of it, Charles, " said the admiral. "Don't speak to any one else, but give me a little time. You shall haveno cause of complaint. Your honour cannot suffer in my hands. "

"I will wait your leisure, uncle; but remember that such affairs asthese, when once broached, had always better be concluded with allconvenient dispatch. "

"I know that, boy--I know that. "

The admiral walked away, and Charles, who really felt much fretted atthe delay which had taken place, returned to the house. 

He had not been there long, when a lad, who had been temporarily hiredduring the morning by Henry to answer the gate, brought him a note, saying, --

"A servant, sir, left this for you just now. "

"For me?" said Charles, as he glanced at the direction. "This isstrange, for I have no acquaintance about here. Does any one wait?"

"No, sir. "

The note was properly directed to him, therefore Charles Holland at onceopened it. A glance at the bottom of the page told him that it came fromhis enemy, Sir Francis Varney, and then he read it with much eagerness. It ran thus:--

 "SIR, --Your uncle, as he stated himself to be, Admiral Bell, was the bearer to me, as I understood him this day, of a challenge from you. Owing to some unaccountable hallucination of intellect, he seemed to imagine that I intended to set myself up as a sort of animated target, for any one to shoot at who might have a fancy so to do. 

 "According to this eccentric view of the case, the admiral had the kindness to offer to fight me first, when, should he not have the good fortune to put me out of the world, you were to try your skill, doubtless. 

 "I need scarcely say that I object to these family arrangements. You have challenged me, and, fancying the offence sufficient, you defy me to mortal combat. If, therefore, I fight with any one at all, it must be with you. 

 "You will clearly understand me, sir, that I do not accuse you of being at all party to this freak of intellect of your uncle's. He, no doubt, alone conceived it, with a laudable desire on his part of serving you. If, however, to meet me, do so to-night, in the middle of the park surrounding your own friends estate. 

 "There is a pollard oak growing close to a small pool; you, no doubt, have noticed the spot often. Meet me there, if you please, and any satisfaction you like I will give you, at twelve o'clock this night. 

 "Come alone, or you will not see me. It shall be at your own option entirely, to convert the meeting into a hostile one or not. You need send me no answer to this. If you are at the place I mention at the time I have named, well and good. If you an not, I can only, if I please, imagine that you shrink from a meeting with

 "FRANCIS VARNEY. "

Charles Holland read this letter twice over carefully, and then foldingit up, and placing it in his pocket, he said, --

"Yes, I will meet him; he may be assured that I will meet him. He shallfind that I do not shrink from Francis Varney In the name of honour, love, virtue, and Heaven, I will meet this man, and it shall go hardwith me but I will this night wring from him the secret of what hereally is. For the sake of her who is so dear to me--for her sake, Iwill meet this man, or monster, be he what he may. "

It would have been far more prudent had Charles informed HenryBannerworth or George of his determination to meet the vampyre thatevening, but he did not do so. Somehow he fancied it would be somereproach against his courage if he did not go, and go alone, too, for hecould not help suspecting that, from the conduct of his uncle, SirFrancis Varney might have got up an opinion inimical to his courage. 

With all the eager excitement of youth, there was nothing that arrayeditself to his mind in such melancholy and uncomfortable colours as animputation upon his courage. 

"I will show this vampyre, if he be such, " he said, "that I am notafraid to meet him, and alone, too, at his own hour--at midnight, evenwhen, if his preternatural powers be of more avail to him than at anyother time, be can attempt, if he dare, to use them. "

Charles resolved upon going armed, and with the greatest care he loadedhis pistols, and placed them aside ready for action, when the timeshould come to set out to meet the vampyre at the spot in the park whichhad been particularly alluded to in his letter. 

This spot was perfectly well known to Charles; indeed, no one could be asingle day at Bannerworth Hall without noticing it, so prominent anobject was that pollard oak, standing, as it did, alone, with thebeautiful green sward all around it. Near to it was the pool which hidbeen mentioned, which was, in reality, a fish-pond, and some littledistance off commenced the thick plantation, among the intricacies ofwhich Sir Francis Varney, or the vampyre, had been supposed todisappear, after the revivification of his body at the full of the moon. 

This spot was in view of several of the windows of the house, so that ifthe night should happen to be a very light one, and any of theinhabitants of the Hall should happen to have the curiosity to look fromthose particular windows, no doubt the meeting between Charles Hollandand the vampyre would be seen. 

This, however, was a contingency which was nothing to Charles, whateverit might be to Sir Francis Varney, and he scarcely at all considered itas worth consideration. He felt more happy and comfortable now thateverything seemed to be definitively arranged by which he could come tosome sort of explanation with that mysterious being who had soeffectually, as yet, succeeded in destroying his peace of mind and hisprospects of happiness. 

"I will this night force him to declare himself, " thought Charles. "Heshall tell me who and what he really is, and by some means I willendeavour to put an end to those frightful persecutions which Flora hassuffered. "

This was a thought which considerably raised Charles's spirits, and whenhe sought Flora again, which he now did, she was surprised to see him somuch more easy and composed in his mind, which was sufficiently shown byhis manner, than he had been but so short a time before. 

"Charles, " she said, "what has happened to give such an impetus to yourspirits?"

"Nothing, dear Flora, nothing; but I have been endeavouring to throwfrom my mind all gloomy thoughts, and to convince myself that in thefuture you and I, dearest, may yet be very happy. "

"Oh, Charles, if I could but think so. "

"Endeavour, Flora, to think so. Remember how much our happiness isalways in our own power, Flora, and that, let fate do her worst, so longas we are true to each other, we have a recompense for every ill. "

"Oh, indeed, Charles, that is a dear recompense. "

"And it is well that no force of circumstances short of death itself candivide us. "

"True, Charles, true, and I am more than ever now bound to look upon youwith a loving heart; for have you not clung to me generously undercircumstances which, if any at all could have justified you in rendingasunder every tie which bound us together, surely would have done somost fully. "

"It is misfortune and distress that tries love, " said Charles. "It isthus that the touchstone is applied to see if it be current gold indeed, or some base metal, which by a superficial glitter imitates it. "

"And your love is indeed true gold. "

"I am unworthy of one glance from those dear eyes if it were not. "

"Oh, if we could but go from here I think then we might be happy. Astrong impression is upon my mind, and has been so for some time, thatthese persecutions to which I have been subjected are peculiar to thishouse. "

"Think you so?"

"I do, indeed!"

"It may be so, Flora. You are aware that your brother has made up hismind that he will leave the Hall. "

"Yes, yes. "

"And that only in deference to an expressed wish of mine he put off thecarrying such a resolve into effect for a few days. "

"He said so much. "

"Do not, however, imagine, dearest Flora, that those few days will beidly spent. "

"Nay, Charles, I could not imagine so. "

"Believe me, I have some hopes that in that short space of time I shallbe able to accomplish yet something which shall have a material effectupon the present posture of affairs. "

"Do not run into danger, Charles. "

"I will not. Believe me, Flora, I have too much appreciation of thevalue of an existence which is blessed by your love, to encounter anyneedless risks. "

"You say needless. Why do you not confide in me, and tell me if theobject you have in view to accomplish in the few days delay is adangerous one at all. "

"Will you forgive me, Flora, if for once I keep a secret from you?"

"Then, Charles, along with the forgiveness I must conjure up a host ofapprehensions. "

"Nay, why so?"

"You would tell me if there were no circumstances that you feared wouldfill me with alarm. "

"Now, Flora, your fears and not your judgment condemn me. Surely youcannot think me so utterly heedless as to court danger for danger'ssake. "

"No, not so--"

"You pause. "

"And yet you have a sense of what you call honour, which, I fear, wouldlead you into much risk. "

"I have a sense of honour; but not that foolish one which hangs far moreupon the opinions of others than my own. If I thought a course of honourlay before me, and all the world, in a mistaken judgment, were tocondemn it as wrong, I would follow it. "

"You are right, Charles; you are right. Let me pray of you to becareful, and, at all events, to interpose no more delay to our leavingthis house than you shall feel convinced is absolutely necessary forsome object of real and permanent importance. "

Charles promised Flora Bannerworth that for her sake, as well as hisown, he would be most specially careful of his safety; and then in suchendearing conversation as may be well supposed to be dictated by suchhearts as theirs another happy hour was passed away. 

[Illustration]

They pictured to themselves the scene where first they met, and with aworld of interest hanging on every word they uttered, they told eachother of the first delightful dawnings of that affection which hadsprung up between them, and which they fondly believed neither time norcircumstance would have the power to change or subvert. 

In the meantime the old admiral was surprised that Charles was sopatient, and had not been to him to demand the result of hisdeliberation. 

But he knew not on what rapid pinions time flies, when in the presenceof those whom we love. What was an actual hour, was but a fleetingminute to Charles Holland, as he sat with Flora's hand clasped in his, and looking at her sweet face. 

At length a clock striking reminded him of his engagement with hisuncle, and he reluctantly rose. 

"Dear Flora, " he said, "I am going to sit up to watch to-night, so beunder no sort of apprehension. "

"I will feel doubly safe, " she said. 

"I have now something to talk to my uncle about, and must leave you. "

Flora smiled, and held out her hand to him. He pressed it to his heart. He knew not what impulse came over him then, but for the first time hekissed the cheek of the beautiful girl. 

With a heightened colour she gently repulsed him. He took a longlingering look at her as he passed out of the room, and when the doorwas closed between them, the sensation he experienced was as if somesudden cloud had swept across the face of the sun, dimming to a vastextent its precious lustre. 

A strange heaviness came across his spirits, which before had been sounaccountably raised. He felt as if the shadow of some coming evil wasresting on his soul--as if some momentous calamity was preparing forhim, which would almost be enough to drive him to madness, andirredeemable despair. 

"What can this be, " he exclaimed, "that thus oppresses me? What feelingis this that seems to tell me, I shall never again see FloraBannerworth?"

Unconsciously he uttered these words, which betrayed the nature of hisworst forebodings. 

"Oh, this is weakness, " he then added. "I must fight out against this;it is mere nervousness. I must not endure it, I will not suffer myselfthus to become the sport of imagination. Courage, courage, CharlesHolland. There are real evils enough, without your adding to them bythose of a disordered fancy. Courage, courage, courage. "

CHAPTER XXV. 

THE ADMIRAL'S OPINION. --THE REQUEST OF CHARLES. 

[Illustration]

Charles then sought the admiral, whom he found with his hands behindhim, pacing to and fro in one of the long walks of the garden, evidentlyin a very unsettled state of mind. When Charles appeared, he quickenedhis pace, and looked in such a state of unusual perplexity that it wasquite ridiculous to observe him. 

"I suppose, uncle, you have made up your mind thoroughly by this time?"

"Well, I don't know that. "

"Why, you have had long enough surely to think over it. I have nottroubled you soon. "

"Well, I cannot exactly say you have, but, somehow or another, I don'tthink very fast, and I have an unfortunate propensity after a time ofcoming exactly round to where I began. "

"Then, to tell the truth, uncle, you can come to no sort of conclusion. "

"Only one. "

"And what may that be?"

"Why, that you are right in one thing, Charles, which is, that havingsent a challenge to this fellow of a vampyre, you must fight him. "

"I suspect that that is a conclusion you had from the first, uncle?"

"Why so?"

"Because it is an obvious and a natural one. All your doubts, andtrouble, and perplexities, have been to try and find some excuse for notentertaining that opinion, and now that you really find it in vain tomake it, I trust that you will accede as you first promised to do, andnot seek by any means to thwart me. "

"I will not thwart you, my boy, although in my opinion you ought not tofight with a vampyre. "

"Never mind that. We cannot urge that as a valid excuse, so long as hechooses to deny being one. And after all, if he be really wrongfullysuspected, you must admit that he is a very injured man. "

"Injured!--nonsense. If he is not a vampyre, he's some otherout-of-the-way sort of fish, you may depend. He's the oddest-lookingfellow ever I came across in all my born days, ashore or afloat. "

"Is he?"

"Yes, he is: and yet, when I come to look at the thing again in my mind, some droll sights that I have seen come across my memory. The sea is theplace for wonders and for mysteries. Why, we see more in a day and anight there, than you landsmen could contrive to make a wholetwelvemonth's wonder of. "

"But you never saw a vampyre, uncle?"

"Well, I don't know that. I didn't know anything about vampyres till Icame here; but that was my ignorance, you know. There might have beenlots of vampyres where I've been, for all I know. "

"Oh, certainly; but as regards this duel, will you wait now untilto-morrow morning, before you take any further steps in the matter?"

"Till to-morrow morning?"

"Yes, uncle. "

"Why, only a little while ago, you were all eagerness to have somethingdone off-hand. "

"Just so; but now I have a particular reason for waiting until to-morrowmorning. "

"Have you? Well, as you please, boy--as you please. Have everything yourown way. "

"You are very kind, uncle; and now I have another favour to ask of you. "

"What is it?"

"Why, you know that Henry Bannerworth receives but a very small sum outof the whole proceeds of the estate here, which ought, but for hisfather's extravagance, to be wholly at his disposal. "

"So I have heard. "

"I am certain he is at present distressed for money, and I have notmuch. Will you lend me fifty pounds, uncle, until my own affairs aresufficiently arranged to enable you to pay yourself again?"

"Will I! of course I will. "

"I wish to offer that sum as an accommodation to Henry. From me, I daresay he will receive it freely, because he must be convinced how freelyit is offered; and, besides, they look upon me now almost as a member ofthe family in consequence of my engagement with Flora. "

"Certainly, and quite correct too: there's a fifty-pound note, my boy;take it, and do what you like with it, and when you want any more, cometo me for it. "

"I knew I could trespass thus far on your kindness, uncle. "

"Trespass! It's no trespass at all. "

"Well, we will not fall out about the terms in which I cannot helpexpressing my gratitude to you for many favours. To-morrow, you willarrange the duel for me. "

"As you please. I don't altogether like going to that fellow's houseagain. "

"Well, then, we can manage, I dare say, by note. "

"Very good. Do so. He puts me in mind altogether of a circumstance thathappened a good while ago, when I was at sea, and not so old a man as Iam now. "

"Puts you in mind of a circumstance, uncle?"

"Yes; he's something like a fellow that figured in an affair that I knowa good deal about; only I do think as my chap was more mysterious by ad----d sight than this one. "

"Indeed!"

"Oh, dear, yes. When anything happens in an odd way at sea, it is as oddagain as anything that occurs on land, my boy, you may depend. "

"Oh, you only fancy that, uncle, because you have spent so long a timeat sea. "

"No, I don't imagine it, you rascal. What can you have on shore equal towhat we have at sea? Why, the sights that come before us would make youlandsmen's hairs stand up on end, and never come down again. "

"In the ocean, do you mean, that you see those sights, uncle?"

"To be sure. I was once in the southern ocean, in a small frigate, looking out for a seventy-four we were to join company with, when a manat the mast-head sung out that he saw her on the larboard bow. Well, wethought it was all right enough, and made away that quarter, when whatdo you think it turned out to be?"

"I really cannot say. "

"The head of a fish. "

"A fish!"

"Yes! a d----d deal bigger than the hull of a vessel. He was swimmingalong with his head just what I dare say he considered a shaving or soout of the water. "

"But where were the sails, uncle?"

"The sails?"

"Yes; your man at the mast-head must have been a poor seaman not to havemissed the sails. "

"All, that's one of your shore-going ideas, now. You know nothingwhatever about it. I'll tell you where the sails were, master Charley. "

"Well, I should like to know. "

"The spray, then, that he dashed up with a pair of fins that were closeto his head, was in such a quantity, and so white, that they looked justlike sails. "

"Oh!"

"Ah! you may say 'oh!' but we all saw him--the whole ship's crew; and wesailed alongside of him for some time, till he got tired of us, andsuddenly dived down, making such a vortex in the water, that the shipshook again, and seemed for about a minute as if she was inclined tofollow him to the bottom of the sea. "

"And what do you suppose it was, uncle?"

"How should I know?"

"Did you ever see it again?"

"Never; though others have caught a glimpse of him now and then in thesame ocean, but never came so near him as we did, that ever I heard of, at all events. They may have done so. "

"It is singular!"

"Singular or not, it's a fool to what I can tell you. Why, I've seenthings that, if I were to set about describing them to you, you wouldsay I was making up a romance. "

"Oh, no; it's quite impossible, uncle, any one could ever suspect you ofsuch a thing. "

"You'd believe me, would you?"

"Of course I would. "

"Then here goes. I'll just tell you now of a circumstance that I haven'tliked to mention to anybody yet. "

"Indeed! why so?"

"Because I didn't want to be continually fighting people for notbelieving it; but here you have it:--"

We were outward bound; a good ship, a good captain, and good messmates, you know, go far towards making a prosperous voyage a pleasant and happyone, and on this occasion we had every reasonable prospect of all. 

Our hands were all tried men--they had been sailors from infancy; noneof your French craft, that serve an apprenticeship and then become landlubbers again. Oh, no, they were stanch and true, and loved the ocean asthe sluggard loves his bed, or the lover his mistress. 

Ay, and for the matter of that, the love was a more enduring and a morehealthy love, for it increased with years, and made men love oneanother, and they would stand by each other while they had a limb tolift--while they were able to chew a quid or wink an eye, leave alonewag a pigtail. 

We were outward bound for Ceylon, with cargo, and were to bring spicesand other matters home from the Indian market. The ship was new andgood--a pretty craft; she sat like a duck upon the water, and a stiffbreeze carried her along the surface of the waves without your rocking, and pitching, and tossing, like an old wash-tub at a mill-tail, as Ihave had the misfortune to sail in more than once afore. 

No, no, we were well laden, and well pleased, and weighed anchor withlight hearts and a hearty cheer. 

Away we went down the river, and soon rounded the North Foreland, andstood out in the Channel. The breeze was a steady and stiff one, andcarried us through the water as though it had been made for us. 

"Jack, " said I to a messmate of mine, as he stood looking at the skies, then at the sails, and finally at the water, with a graver air than Ithought was at all consistent with the occasion or circumstances. 

"Well, " he replied. 

"What ails you? You seem as melancholy as if we were about to cast lotswho should be eaten first. Are you well enough?"

"I am hearty enough, thank Heaven, " he said, "but I don't like thisbreeze. "

"Don't like the breeze!" said I; "why, mate, it is as good and kind abreeze as ever filled a sail. What would you have, a gale?"

"No, no; I fear that. "

"With such a ship, and such a set of hearty able seamen, I think wecould manage to weather out the stiffest gale that ever whistled througha yard. "

"That may be; I hope it is, and I really believe and think so. "

"Then what makes you so infernally mopish and melancholy?"

"I don't know, but can't help it. It seems to me as though there wassomething hanging over us, and I can't tell what. "

"Yes, there are the colours, Jack, at the masthead; they are flying overus with a hearty breeze. "

"Ah! ah!" said Jack, looking up at the colours, and then went awaywithout saying anything more, for he had some piece of duty to perform. 

I thought my messmate had something on his mind that caused him to feelsad and uncomfortable, and I took no more notice of it; indeed, in thecourse of a day or two he was as merry as any of the rest, and had nomore melancholy that I could perceive, but was as comfortable asanybody. 

We had a gale off the coast of Biscay, and rode it out without the lossof a spar or a yard; indeed, without the slightest accident or rent ofany kind. 

"Now, Jack, what do you think of our vessel?" said I. 

"She's like a duck upon water, rises and falls with the waves, anddoesn't tumble up and down like a hoop over stones. "

"No, no; she goes smoothly and sweetly; she is a gallant craft, and thisis her first voyage, and I predict a prosperous one. "

"I hope so, " he said. 

Well, we went on prosperously enough for about three weeks; the oceanwas as calm and as smooth as a meadow, the breeze light but good, and westemmed along majestically over the deep blue waters, and passed coastafter coast, though all around was nothing but the apparently pathlessmain in sight. 

"A better sailer I never stepped into, " said the captain one day; "itwould be a pleasure to live and die in such a vessel. "

Well, as I said, we had been three weeks or thereabouts, when onemorning, after the sun was up and the decks washed, we saw a strange mansitting on one of the water-casks that were on deck, for, being full, wewere compelled to stow some of them on deck. 

You may guess those on deck did a little more than stare at this strangeand unexpected apparition. By jingo, I never saw men open their eyeswider in all my life, nor was I any exception to the rule. I stared, aswell I might; but we said nothing for some minutes, and the strangerlooked calmly on us, and then cocked his eye with a nautical air up atthe sky, as if he expected to receive a twopenny-post letter from St. Michael, or a _billet doux_ from the Virgin Mary. 

"Where has he come from?" said one of the men in a low tone to hiscompanion, who was standing by him at that moment. 

"How can I tell?" replied his companion. "He may have dropped from theclouds; he seems to be examining the road; perhaps he is going back. "

The stranger sat all this time with the most extreme and provokingcoolness and unconcern; he deigned us but a passing notice, but it wasvery slight. 

He was a tall, spare man--what is termed long and lathy--but he wasevidently a powerful man. He had a broad chest, and long, sinewy arms, ahooked nose, and a black, eagle eye. His hair was curly, but frosted byage; it seemed as though it had been tinged with white at theextremities, but he was hale and active otherwise, to judge fromappearances. 

Notwithstanding all this, there was a singular repulsiveness about himthat I could not imagine the cause, or describe; at the same time therewas an air of determination in his wild and singular-looking eyes, andover their whole there was decidedly an air and an appearance sosinister as to be positively disagreeable. 

"Well, " said I, after we had stood some minutes, "where did you comefrom, shipmate?"

He looked at me and then up at the sky, in a knowing manner. 

"Come, come, that won't do; you have none of Peter Wilkins's wings, andcouldn't come on the aerial dodge; it won't do; how did you get here?"

He gave me an awful wink, and made a sort of involuntary movement, whichjumped him up a few inches, and he bumped down again on the water-cask. 

"That's as much as to say, " thought I, "that he's sat himself on it. "

"I'll go and inform the captain, " said I, "of this affair; he'll hardlybelieve me when I tell him, I am sure. "

So saying, I left the deck and went to the cabin, where the captain wasat breakfast, and related to him what I had seen respecting thestranger. The captain looked at me with an air of disbelief, and said, --

"What?--do you mean to say there's a man on board we haven't seenbefore?"

"Yes, I do, captain. I never saw him afore, and he's sitting beating hisheels on the water-cask on deck. "

"The devil!"

"He is, I assure you, sir; and he won't answer any questions. "

"I'll see to that. I'll see if I can't make the lubber say something, providing his tongue's not cut out. But how came he on board? Confoundit, he can't be the devil, and dropped from the moon. "

"Don't know, captain, " said I. "He is evil-looking enough, to my mind, to be the father of evil, but it's ill bespeaking attentions from thatquarter at any time. "

"Go on, lad; I'll come up after you. "

I left the cabin, and I heard the captain coming after me. When I got ondeck, I saw he had not moved from the place where I left him. There wasa general commotion among the crew when they beard of the occurrence, and all crowded round him, save the man at the wheel, who had to remainat his post. 

The captain now came forward, and the men fell a little back as heapproached. For a moment the captain stood silent, attentively examiningthe stranger, who was excessively cool, and stood the scrutiny with thesame unconcern that he would had the captain been looking at his watch. 

"Well, my man, " said the captain, "how did you come here?"

"I'm part of the cargo, " he said, with an indescribable leer. 

"Part of the cargo be d----d!" said the captain, in sudden rage, for hethought the stranger was coming his jokes too strong. "I know you arenot in the bills of lading. "

"I'm contraband, " replied the stranger; "and my uncle's the great chainof Tartary. "

The captain stared, as well he might, and did not speak for someminutes; all the while the stranger kept kicking his heels against thewater-casks and squinting up at the skies; it made us feel very queer. 

"Well, I must confess you are not in the regular way of trading. "

"Oh, no, " said the stranger; "I am contraband--entirely contraband. "

"And how did you come on board?"

At this question the stranger again looked curiously up at the skies, and continued to do so for more than a minute; he then turned his gazeupon the captain. 

"No, no, " said the captain; "eloquent dumb show won't do with me; youdidn't come, like Mother Shipton, upon a birch broom. How did you comeon board my vessel?"

"I walked on board, " said the stranger. 

"You walked on board; and where did you conceal yourself?"

"Below. "

"Very good; and why didn't you stay below altogether?"

"Because I wanted fresh air. I'm in a delicate state of health, you see;it doesn't do to stay in a confined place too long. "

"Confound the binnacle!" said the captain; it was his usual oath whenanything bothered him, and he could not make it out. "Confound thebinnacle!--what a delicate-looking animal you are. I wish you had stayedwhere you were; your delicacy would have been all the same to me. Delicate, indeed!"

"Yes, very, " said the stranger, coolly. 

There was something so comic in the assertion of his delicateness ofhealth, that we should all have laughed; but we were somewhat scared, and had not the inclination. 

"How have you lived since you came on board?" inquired the captain. 

"Very indifferently. "

"But how? What have you eaten? and what have you drank?"

"Nothing, I assure you. All I did while was below was--"

"What?"

"Why, I sucked my thumbs like a polar bear in its winter quarters. "

And as he spoke the stranger put his two thumbs into his mouth, andextraordinary thumbs they were, too, for each would have filled anordinary man's mouth. 

"These, " said the stranger, pulling them out, and gazing at themwistfully, and with a deep sigh he continued, --

"These were thumbs at one time; but they are nothing now to what theywere. "

"Confound the binnacle!" muttered the captain to himself, and then headded, aloud, --

"It's cheap living, however; but where are you going to, and why did youcome aboard?"

"I wanted a cheap cruise, and I am going there and back. "

"Why, that's where we are going, " said the captain. 

"Then we are brothers, " exclaimed the stranger, hopping off thewater-cask like a kangaroo, and bounding towards the captain, holdingout his hand as though he would have shaken hands with him. 

"No, no, " said the captain; "I can't do it. "

"Can't do it!" exclaimed the stranger, angrily. "What do you mean?"

"That I can't have anything to do with contraband articles; I am a fairtrader, and do all above board. I haven't a chaplain on board, or heshould offer up prayers for your preservation, and the recovery of yourhealth, which seems so delicate. "

"That be--"

The stranger didn't finish the sentence; he merely screwed his mouth upinto an incomprehensible shape, and puffed out a lot of breath, withsome force, and which sounded very much like a whistle: but, oh, whatthick breath he had, it was as much like smoke as anything I ever saw, and so my shipmate said. 

"I say, captain, " said the stranger, as he saw him pacing the deck. 

"Well. "

"Just send me up some beef and biscuit, and some coffee royal--be sureit's royal, do you hear, because I'm partial to brandy, it's the onlygood thing there is on earth. "

I shall not easily forget the captain's look as he turned towards thestranger, and gave his huge shoulders a shrug, as much as to say, --

"Well, I can't help it now; he's here, and I can't throw him overboard. "

The coffee, beef, and biscuit were sent him, and the stranger seemed toeat them with great _gout_, and drank the coffee with much relish, andreturned the things, saying, "Your captain is an excellent cook; give him my compliments. "

I thought the captain would think that was but a left-handed compliment, and look more angry than pleased, but no notice was taken of it. 

It was strange, but this man had impressed upon all in the vessel somesingular notion of his being more than he should be--more than a meremortal, and not one endeavoured to interfere with him; the captain was astout and dare-devil a fellow as you would well met with, yet he seemedtacitly to acknowledge more than he would say, for he never after tookany further notice of the stranger nor he of him. 

They had barely any conversation, simply a civil word when they firstmet, and so forth; but there was little or no conversation of any kindbetween them. 

The stranger slept upon deck, and lived upon deck entirely; he neveronce went below after we saw him, and his own account of being below solong. 

This was very well, but the night-watch did not enjoy his society, andwould have willingly dispensed with it at that hour so particularlylonely and dejected upon the broad ocean, and perhaps a thousand milesaway from the nearest point of land. 

At this dread and lonely hour, when no sound reaches the ear anddisturbs the wrapt stillness of the night, save the whistling of thewind through the cordage, or an occasional dash of water against thevessel's side, the thoughts of the sailor are fixed on far distantobjects--his own native land and the friends and loved ones he has leftbehind him. 

He then thinks of the wilderness before, behind, and around him; of theimmense body of water, almost in places bottomless; gazing upon such ascene, and with thoughts as strange and indefinite as the veryboundless expanse before him, it is no wonder if he should becomesuperstitious; the time and place would, indeed unbidden, conjure upthoughts and feelings of a fearful character and intensity. 

The stranger at such times would occupy his favourite seat on the watercask, and looking up at the sky and then on the ocean, and betweenwhiles he would whistle a strange, wild, unknown melody. 

The flesh of the sailors used to creep up in knots and bumps when theyheard it; the wind used to whistle as an accompaniment and pronouncefearful sounds to their ears. 

The wind had been highly favourable from the first, and since thestranger had been discovered it had blown fresh, and we went along at arapid rate, stemming the water, and dashing the spray off from the bows, and cutting the water like a shark. 

This was very singular to us, we couldn't understand it, neither couldthe captain, and we looked very suspiciously at the stranger, and wishedhim at the bottom, for the freshness of the wind now became a gale, andyet the ship came through the water steadily, and away we went beforethe wind, as if the devil drove us; and mind I don't mean to say hedidn't. 

The gale increased to a hurricane, and though we had not a stitch ofcanvass out, yet we drove before the gale as if we had been shot out ofthe mouth of a gun. 

The stranger still sat on the water casks, and all night long he kept uphis infernal whistle. Now, sailors don't like to hear any one whistlewhen there's such a gale blowing over their heads--it's like asking formore; but he would persist, and the louder and stronger the wind blew, the louder he whistled. 

At length there came a storm of rain, lightning, and wind. We weretossed mountains high, and the foam rose over the vessel, and oftenentirely over our heads, and the men were lashed to their posts toprevent being washed away. 

But the stranger still lay on the water casks, kicking his heels andwhistling his infernal tune, always the same. He wasn't washed away normoved by the action of the water; indeed, we heartily hoped and expectedto see both him and the water cask floated overboard at every minute;but, as the captain said, --

"Confound the binnacle! the old water tub seems as if it were screwed onto the deck, and won't move off and he on the top of it. "

There was a strong inclination to throw him overboard, and the menconversed in low whispers, and came round the captain, saying, --

"We have come, captain, to ask you what you think of this strange manwho has come so mysteriously on board?"

"I can't tell what to think, lads; he's past thinking about--he'ssomething above my comprehension altogether, I promise you. "

"Well, then, we are thinking much of the same thing, captain. "

"What do you mean?"

"That he ain't exactly one of our sort. "

"No, he's no sailor, certainly; and yet, for a land lubber, he's aboutas rum a customer as ever I met with. "

"So he is, sir. "

"He stands salt water well; and I must say that I couldn't lay a top ofthose water casks in that style very well. "

"Nor nobody amongst us, sir. "

"Well, then, he's in nobody's way, it he?--nobody wants to take hisberth, I suppose?"

The men looked at each other somewhat blank; they didn't understand themeaning at all--far from it; and the idea of any one's wanting to takethe stranger's place on the water casks was so outrageously ludicrous, that at any other time they would have considered it a devilish goodjoke and have never ceased laughing at it. 

He paused some minutes, and then one of them said, --

"It isn't that we envy him his berth, captain, 'cause nobody else couldlive there for a moment. Any one amongst us that had been there wouldhave been washed overboard a thousand times over. "

"So they would, " said the captain. 

"Well, sir, he's more than us. "

"Very likely; but how can I help that?"

"We think he's the main cause of all this racket in the heavens--thestorm and hurricane; and that, in short, if he remains much longer weshall all sink. "

"I am sorry for it. I don't think we are in any danger, and had thestrange being any power to prevent it, he would assuredly do so, lest hegot drowned. "

"But we think if he were thrown overboard all would be well. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, captain, you may depend upon it he's the cause of all themischief. Throw him overboard and that's all we want. "

"I shall not throw him overboard, even if I could do such a thing; and Iam by no means sure of anything of the kind. "

"We do not ask it, sir. "

"What do you desire?"

"Leave to throw him overboard--it is to save our own lives. "

"I can't let you do any such thing; he's in nobody's way. "

"But he's always a whistling. Only hark now, and in such a hurricane asthis, it is dreadful to think of it. What else can we do, sir?--he's nothuman. "

At this moment, the stranger's whistling came clear upon their ears;there was the same wild, unearthly notes as before, but the cadenceswere stronger, and there was a supernatural clearness in all the tones. 

"There now, " said another, "he's kicking the water cask with his heels. "

"Confound the binnacle!" said the captain; "it sounds like short pealsof thunder. Go and talk to him, lads. "

"And if that won't do, sir, may we--"

"Don't ask me any questions. I don't think a score of the best men thatwere ever born could move him. "

"I don't mind trying, " said one. 

Upon this the whole of the men moved to the spot where the water caskswere standing and the stranger lay. 

There was he, whistling like fury, and, at the same time, beating hisheels to the tune against the empty casks. We came up to him, and hetook no notice of us at all, but kept on in the same way. 

"Hilloa!" shouted one. 

"Hilloa!" shouted another. 

No notice, however, was taken of us, and one of our number, a big, herculean fellow, an Irishman, seized him by the leg, either to make himget up, or, as we thought, to give him a lift over our heads into thesea. 

However, he had scarcely got his fingers round the calf of the leg, whenthe stranger pinched his leg so tight against the water cask, that hecould not move, and was as effectually pinned as if he had been nailedthere. The stranger, after he had finished a bar of the music, rosegradually to a sitting posture, and without the aid of his hands, andlooking the unlucky fellow in the face, he said, --

"Well, what do you want?"

"My hand, " said the fellow. 

"Take it then, " he said. 

He did take it, and we saw that there was blood on it. 

The stranger stretched out his left hand, and taking him by the breech, he lifted him, without any effort, upon the water-cask beside him. 

We all stared at this, and couldn't help it; and we were quite convincedwe could not throw him overboard, but he would probably have nodifficulty in throwing us overboard. 

"Well, what do you want?" he again exclaimed to us all. 

We looked at one another, and had scarce courage to speak; at length Isaid, --

"We wish you to leave off whistling. "

"Leave off whistling!" he said. "And why should I do anything of thekind?"

"Because it brings the wind. "

"Ha! ha! why, that's the very reason I am whistling, to bring the wind. "

"But we don't want so much. "

"Pho! pho! you don't know what's good for you--it's a beautiful breeze, and not a bit too stiff. "

"It's a hurricane. "

"Nonsense. "

"But it is. "

"Now you see how I'll prove you are wrong in a minute. You see my hair, don't you?" he said, after he took off his cap. "Very well, look now. "

He got up on the water-cask, and stood bolt upright; and running hisfingers through his hair, made it all stand straight on end. 

"Confound the binnacle!" said the captain, "if ever I saw the like. "

"There, " said the stranger, triumphantly, "don't tell me there's anywind to signify; don't you see, it doesn't even move one of my greyhairs; and if it blew as hard as you say, I am certain it would move ahair. "

"Confound the binnacle!" muttered the captain as he walked away. "D--nthe cabouse, if he ain't older than I am--he's too many for me andeverybody else. "

"Are you satisfied?"

What could we say?--we turned away and left the place, and stood at ourquarters--there was no help for it--we were impelled to grin and abideby it. 

[Illustration]

As soon as we had left the place he put his cap on again and sat down onthe water-casks, and then took leave of his prisoner, whom he set free, and there lay at full length on his back, with his legs hanging down. Once more he began to whistle most furiously, and beat time with hisfeet. 

For full three weeks did he continue at this game night and day, withoutany interruption, save such as he required to consume enough coffeeroyal, junk, and biscuit, as would have served three hearty men. 

Well, about that time, one night the whistling ceased and he began tosing--oh! it was singing--such a voice! Gog and Magog in Guildhall, London, when they spoke were nothing to him--it was awful; but the windcalmed down to a fresh and stiff breeze. He continued at this game forthree whole days and nights, and on the fourth it ceased, and when wewent to take his coffee royal to him he was gone. 

We hunted about everywhere, but he was entirely gone, and in three weeksafter we safely cast anchor, having performed our voyage in a good monthunder the usual time; and had it been an old vessel she would haveleaked and stinted like a tub from the straining; however, we were gladenough to get in, and were curiously inquisitive as to what was put inour vessel to come back with, for as the captain said, --

"Confound the binnacle! I'll have no more contraband articles if I canhelp it. "

CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE MEETING BY MOONLIGHT IN THE PARK. --THE TURRET WINDOW IN THEHALL. --THE LETTERS. 

[Illustration]

The old admiral showed such a strong disposition to take offence atCharles if he should presume, for a moment, to doubt the truth of thenarrative that was thus communicated to him, that the latter would notanger him by so doing, but confined his observations upon it to sayingthat he considered it was very wonderful, and very extraordinary, and soon, which very well satisfied the old man. 

The day was now, however, getting far advanced, and Charles Hollandbegan to think of his engagement with the vampyre. He read and read theletter over and over again, but he could not come to a correctconclusion as to whether it intended to imply that he, Sir FrancisVarney, would wish to fight him at the hour and place mentioned, ormerely give him a meeting as a preliminary step. 

He was rather, on the whole, inclined to think that some explanationwould be offered by Varney, but at all events he persevered in hisdetermination of going well armed, lest anything in the shape oftreachery should be intended. 

As nothing of any importance occurred now in the interval of time tillnearly midnight, we will at once step to that time, and our readers willsuppose it to be a quarter to twelve o'clock at night, and young CharlesHolland on the point of leaving the house, to keep his appointment bythe pollard oak, with the mysterious Sir Francis Varney. 

He placed his loaded pistols conveniently in his pocket, so that at amoment's notice he could lay hands on them, and then wrapping himself upin a travelling cloak he had brought with him to Bannerworth Hall, heprepared to leave his chamber. 

The moon still shone, although now somewhat on the wane, and althoughthere were certainly many clouds in the sky they were but of a lightfleecy character, and very little interrupted the rays of light thatcame from the nearly full disc of the moon. 

From his window he could not perceive the spot in the park where he wasto meet Varney, because the room in which he was occupied not asufficiently high place in the house to enable him to look over a beltof trees that stopped the view. From almost any of the upper windows thepollard oak could be seen. 

It so happened now that the admiral had been placed in a roomimmediately above the one occupied by his nephew, and, as his mind wasfull of how he should manage with regard to arranging the preliminariesof the duel between Charles and Varney on the morrow, he found itdifficult to sleep; and after remaining in bed about twenty minutes, andfinding that each moment he was only getting more and more restless, headopted a course which he always did under such circumstances. 

He rose and dressed himself again, intending to sit up for an hour andthen turn into bed and try a second time to get to sleep. But he had nomeans of getting a light, so he drew the heavy curtain from before thewindow, and let in as much of the moonlight as he could. 

This window commanded a most beautiful and extensive view, for from itthe eye could carry completely over the tops of the tallest trees, sothat there was no interruption whatever to the prospect, which was asextensive as it was delightful. 

Even the admiral, who never would confess to seeing much beauty inscenery where water formed not a large portion of it, could not resistopening his window and looking out, with a considerable degree ofadmiration, upon wood and dale, as they were illuminated by the moon'srays, softened, and rendered, if anything, more beautiful by the lightvapours, through which they had to struggle to make their way. 

Charles Holland, in order to avoid the likelihood of meeting with anyone who would question him as to where he was going, determined uponleaving his room by the balcony, which, as we are aware, presented amplefacilities for his so doing. 

He cast a glance at the portrait in the panel before he left theapartment, and then saying, --

"For you, dear Flora, for you I essay this meeting with the fearfuloriginal of that portrait, " he immediately opened his window, andstepped out on to the balcony. 

Young and active as was Charles Holland, to descend from that balconypresented to him no difficulty whatever, and he was, in a very fewmoments, safe in the garden of Bannerworth Hall. 

He never thought, for a moment, to look up, or he would, in an instant, have seen the white head of his old uncle, as it was projected over thesill of the window of his chamber. 

The drop of Charles from the balcony of his window, just made sufficientnoise to attract the admiral's attention, and, then, before he couldthink of making any alarm, he saw Charles walking hastily across a grassplot, which was sufficiently in the light of the moon to enable theadmiral at once to recognise him, and leave no sort of doubt as to hispositive identity. 

Of course, upon discovering that it was Charles, the necessity formaking an alarm no longer existed, and, indeed, not knowing what it wasthat had induced him to leave his chamber, a moment's reflectionsuggested to him the propriety of not even calling to Charles, lest heshould defeat some discovery which he might be about to make. 

"He has heard something, or seen something, " thought the admiral, "andis gone to find out what it is. I only wish I was with him; but up hereI can do nothing at all, that's quite clear. "

Charles, he saw, walked very rapidly, and like a man who has some fixeddestination which he wishes to reach as quickly as possible. 

When he dived among the trees which skirted one side of the flowergardens, the admiral was more puzzled than ever, and he said--

"Now where on earth is he off to? He is fully dressed, and has his cloakabout him. "

After a few moments' reflection he decided that, having seen somethingsuspicious, Charles must have got up, and dressed himself, to fathom it. 

The moment this idea became fairly impressed upon his mind, he left hisbedroom, and descended to where one of the brothers he knew was sittingup, keeping watch during the night. It was Henry who was so on guard;and when the admiral came into the room, he uttered an expression ofsurprise to find him up, for it was now some time past twelve o'clock. 

"I have come to tell you that Charles has left the house, " said theadmiral. 

"Left the house?"

"Yes; I saw him just now go across the garden. "

"And you are sure it was he?"

"Quite sure. I saw him by the moonlight cross the green plot. "

"Then you may depend he has seen or heard something, and gone alone tofind out what it is rather than give any alarm. "

"That is just what I think. "

"It must be so. I will follow him, if you can show me exactly which wayhe went. "

"That I can easily. And in case I should have made any mistake, which itis not at all likely, we can go to his room first and see if it isempty. "

"A good thought, certainly; that will at once put an end to all doubtupon the question. "

They both immediately proceeded to Charles's room, and then theadmiral's accuracy of identification of his nephew was immediatelyproved by finding that Charles was not there, and that the window waswide open. 

"You see I am right, " said the admiral. 

"You are, " cried Henry; "but what have we here?"

"Where?"

"Here on the dressing-table. Here are no less than three letters, alllaid as it on purpose to catch the eye of the first one who might enterthe room. "

"Indeed!"

"You perceive them?"

Henry held them to the light, and after a moment's inspection of them, he said, in a voice of much surprise, --

"Good God! what is the meaning of this?"

"The meaning of what?"

"The letters are addressed to parties in the house here. Do you notsee?"

"To whom?"

"One to Admiral Bell--"

"The deuce!"

"Another to me, and the third to my sister Flora. There is some newmystery here. "

The admiral looked at the superscription of one of the letters which washanded to him in silent amazement. Then he cried, --

"Set down the light, and let us read them. "

Henry did so, and then they simultaneously opened the epistles whichwere severally addressed to them. There was a silence, as of the verygrave, for some moments, and then the old admiral staggered to a seat, as he exclaimed, --

"Am I dreaming--am I dreaming?"

"Is this possible?" said Henry, in a voice of deep emotion, as heallowed the note addressed to him to drop on to the floor. 

"D--n it, what does yours say?" cried the old admiral, in a louder tone. 

"Read it--what says yours?"

"Read it--I'm amazed. "

The letters were exchanged, and read by each with the same breathlessattention they had bestowed upon their own; after which, they bothlooked at each other in silence, pictures of amazement, and the mostabsolute state of bewilderment. 

Not to keep our readers in suspense, we at once transcribe each of theseletters. 

The one to the admiral contained these words, --

 "MY DEAR UNCLE, "Of course you will perceive the prudence of keeping this letter to yourself, but the fact is, I have now made up my mind to leave Bannerworth Hall. 

 "Flora Bannerworth is not now the person she was when first I knew her and loved her. Such being the case, and she having altered, not I, she cannot accuse me of fickleness. 

 "I still love the Flora Bannerworth I first knew, but I cannot make my wife one who is subject to the visitations of a vampyre. 

 "I have remained here long enough now to satisfy myself that this vampyre business is no delusion. I am quite convinced that it is a positive fact, and that, after death, Flora will herself become one of the horrible existences known by that name. 

 "I will communicate to you from the first large city on the continent whither I am going, at which I make any stay, and in the meantime, make what excuses you like at Bannerworth Hall, which I advise you to leave as quickly as you can, and believe me to be, my dear uncle, yours truly, "CHARLES HOLLAND. "

Henry's letter was this:--

 "MY DEAR SIR, "If you calmly and dispassionately consider the painful and distressing circumstances in which your family are placed, I am sure that, far from blaming me for the step which this note will announce to you I have taken, you will be the first to give me credit for acting with an amount of prudence and foresight which was highly necessary under the circumstances. 

 "If the supposed visits of a vampyre to your sister Flora had turned out, as first I hoped they would, a delusion and been in any satisfactory manner explained away I should certainly have felt pride and pleasure in fulfilling my engagement to that young lady. 

 "You must, however, yourself feel that the amount of evidence in favour of a belief that an actual vampyre has visited Flora, enforces a conviction of its truth. 

 "I cannot, therefore, make her my wife under such very singular circumstances. 

 "Perhaps you may blame me for not taking at once advantage of the permission given me to forego my engagement when first I came to your house; but the fact is, I did not then in the least believe in the existence of the vampyre, but since a positive conviction of that most painful fact has now forced itself upon me, I beg to decline the honour of an alliance which I had at one time looked forward to with the most considerable satisfaction. 

 "I shall be on the continent as fast as conveyances can take me, therefore, should you entertain any romantic notions of calling me to an account for a course of proceeding I think perfectly and fully justifiable, you will not find me. 

 "Accept the assurances of my respect for yourself and pity for your sister, and believe me to be, my dear sir, your sincere friend, "CHARLES HOLLAND. "

These two letters might well make the admiral stare at HenryBannerworth, and Henry stare at him. 

An occurrence so utterly and entirely unexpected by both of them, wasenough to make them doubt the evidence of their own senses. But therewere the letters, as a damning evidence of the outrageous fact, andCharles Holland was gone. 

It was the admiral who first recovered from the stunning effect of theepistles, and he, with a gesture of perfect fury, exclaimed, --

"The scoundrel--the cold-blooded villain! I renounce him for ever! he isno nephew of mine; he is some d----d imposter! Nobody with a dash of myfamily blood in his veins would have acted so to save himself from athousand deaths. "

"Who shall we trust now, " said Henry, "when those whom we take to ourinmost hearts deceive us thus? This is the greatest shock I have yetreceived. If there be a pang greater than another, surely it is to befound in the faithlessness and heartlessness of one we loved andtrusted. "

"He is a scoundrel!" roared the admiral. "D--n him, he'll die on adunghill, and that's too good a place for him. I cast him off--I'll findhim out, and old as I am, I'll fight him--I'll wring his neck, therascal; and, as for poor dear Miss Flora, God bless her! I'll--I'llmarry her myself, and make her an admiral. --I'll marry her myself. Oh, that I should be uncle to such a rascal!"

"Calm yourself, " said Henry, "no one can blame you. "

"Yes, you can; I had no right to be his uncle, and I was an old fool tolove him. "

The old man sat down, and his voice became broken with emotion as hesaid, --

"Sir, I tell you I would have died willingly rather than this shouldhave happened. This will kill me now, --I shall die now of shame andgrief. "

Tears gushed from the admiral's eyes and the sight of the noble oldman's emotion did much to calm the anger of Henry which, although hesaid but little, was boiling at his heart like a volcano. 

"Admiral Bell, " he said, "you have nothing to do with this business; wecan not blame you for the heartlessness of another. I have but onefavour to ask of you. "

"What--what can I do?"

"Say no more about him at all. "

"I can't help saying something about him. You ought to turn me out ofthe house. "

"Heaven forbid! What for?"

"Because I'm his uncle--his d----d old fool of an uncle, that alwaysthought so much of him. "

"Nay, my good sir, that was a fault on the right side, and cannotdiscredit you. I thought him the most perfect of human beings. "

"Oh, if I could but have guessed this. "

"It was impossible. Such duplicity never was equalled in this world--itwas impossible to foresee it. "

"Hold--hold! did he give you fifty pounds?"

"What?"

"Did he give you fifty pounds?"

"Give me fifty pounds! Most decidedly not; what made you think of such athing?"

"Because to-day he borrowed fifty pounds of me, he said, to lend toyou. "

"I never heard of the transaction until this moment. "

"The villain!"

"No, doubt, sir, he wanted that amount to expedite his progress abroad. "

"Well, now, damme, if an angel had come to me and said 'Hilloa! AdmiralBell, your nephew, Charles Holland, is a thundering rogue, ' I shouldhave said 'You're a liar!'"

"This is fighting against facts, my dear sir. He is gone--mention him nomore; forget him, as I shall endeavour myself to do, and persuade mypoor sister to do. "

"Poor girl! what can we say to her?"

"Nothing, but give her all the letters, and let her be at once satisfiedof the worthlessness of him she loved. "

"The best way. Her woman's pride will then come to her help. "

"I hope it will. She is of an honourable race, and I am sure she willnot condescend to shed a tear for such a man as Charles Holland hasproved himself to be. "

"D--n him, I'll find him out, and make him fight you. He shall give yousatisfaction. "

"No, no. "

"No? But he shall. "

"I cannot fight with him. "

"You cannot?"

"Certainly not. He is too far beneath me now. I cannot fight onhonourable terms with one whom I despise as too dishonourable to contendwith. I have nothing now but silence and contempt. "

"I have though, for I'll break his neck when I see him, or he shallbreak mine. The villain! I'm ashamed to stay here, my young friend. "

"How mistaken a view you take of this matter, my dear sir. As AdmiralBell, a gentleman, a brave officer, and a man of the purest and mostunblemished honour, you confer a distinction upon us by your presencehere. "

The admiral wrung Henry by the hand, as he said, --

"To-morrow--wait till to-morrow; we will talk over this matter tomorrow--I cannot to-night, I have not patience; but to-morrow, my dearboy, we will have it all out. God bless you. Good night. "

CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE NOBLE CONFIDENCE OF FLORA BANNERWORTH IN HER LOVER. --HER OPINION OFTHE THREE LETTERS. --THE ADMIRAL'S ADMIRATION. 

[Illustration]

To describe the feelings of Henry Bannerworth on the occasion of thisapparent defalcation from the path of rectitude and honour by hisfriend, as he had fondly imagined Charles Holland to be, would be nextto impossible. 

If, as we have taken occasion to say, it be a positive fact, that anoble and a generous mind feels more acutely any heartlessness of thisdescription from one on whom it has placed implicit confidence, than themost deliberate and wicked of injuries from absolute strangers, we caneasily conceive that Henry Bannerworth was precisely the person to feelmost acutely the conduct which all circumstances appeared to fix uponCharles Holland, upon whose faith, truth, and honour, he would havestaked his very existence but a few short hours before. 

With such a bewildered sensation that he scarcely knew where he walkedor whither to betake himself, did he repair to his own chamber, andthere he strove, with what energy he was able to bring to the task, tofind out some excuses, if he could, for Charles's conduct. But he couldfind none. View it in what light he would, it presented but a picture ofthe most heartless selfishness it had ever been his lot to encounter. 

The tone of the letters, too, which Charles had written, materiallyaggravated the moral delinquency of which he had been guilty; belief, far better, had he not attempted an excuse at all than have attemptedsuch excuses as were there put down in those epistles. 

A more cold blooded, dishonourable proceeding could not possibly beconceived. 

It would appear, that while he entertained a doubt with regard to thereality of the visitation of the vampyre to Flora Bannerworth, he hadbeen willing to take to himself abundance of credit for the mosthonourable feelings, and to induce a belief in the minds of all that anexalted feeling of honour, as well as a true affection that would knowno change, kept him at the feet of her whom he loved. 

Like some braggart, who, when there is no danger, is a very hero, butwho, the moment he feels convinced he will be actually and truly calledupon for an exhibition of his much-vaunted prowess, had Charles Hollanddeserted the beautiful girl who, if anything, had now certainly, in hermisfortunes, a far higher claim upon his kindly feeling than before. 

Henry could not sleep, although, at the request of George, who offeredto keep watch for him the remainder of the night he attempted to do so. 

He in vain said to himself, "I will banish from my mind this mostunworthy subject. I have told Admiral Bell that contempt is the onlyfeeling I can now have for his nephew, and yet I now find myselfdwelling upon him, and upon his conduct, with a perseverance which is afoe to my repose. "

At length came the welcome and beautiful light of day, and Henry rosefevered and unrefreshed. 

His first impulse now was to hold a consultation with his brotherGeorge, as to what was to be done, and George advised that Mr. Marchdale, who as yet knew nothing of the matter, should be immediatelyinformed of it, and consulted, as being probably better qualified thaneither of them to come to a just, a cool, and a reasonable opinion uponthe painful circumstance, which it could not be expected that either ofthem would be able to view calmly. 

"Let it be so, then, " said Henry; "Mr. Marchdale shall decide for us. "

They at once sought this friend of the family, who was in his ownbed-room, and when Henry knocked at the door, Marchdale opened ithurriedly, eagerly inquiring what was the matter. 

"There is no alarm, " said Henry. "We have only come to tell you of acircumstance which has occurred during the night, and which willsomewhat surprise you. "

"Nothing calamitous, I hope?"

"Vexatious; and yet, I think it is a matter upon which we ought almostto congratulate ourselves. Read those two letters, and give us yourcandid opinion upon them. "

Henry placed in Mr. Marchdale's hands the letter addressed to himself, as well as that to the admiral. 

Marchdale read them both with marked attention, but he did not exhibitin his countenance so much surprise as regret. 

When he had finished, Henry said to him, --

"Well, Marchdale, what think you of this new and extraordinary episodein our affairs?"

"My dear young friends, " said Marchdale, in a voice of great emotion, "Iknow not what to say to you. I have no doubt but that you are both ofyou much astonished at the receipt of these letters, and equally so atthe sudden absence of Charles Holland. "

"And are not you?"

"Not so much as you, doubtless, are. The fact is, I never did entertaina favourable opinion of the young man, and he knew it. I have beenaccustomed to the study of human nature under a variety of aspects; Ihave made it a matter of deep, and I may add, sorrowful, contemplation, to study and remark those minor shades of character which commonlyescape observation wholly. And, I repeat, I always had a bad opinion ofCharles Holland, which he guessed, and hence he conceived a hatred tome, which more than once, as you cannot but remember, showed itself inlittle acts of opposition and hostility. "

"You much surprise me. "

"I expected to do so. But you cannot help remembering that at one time Iwas on the point of leaving here solely on his account. "

"You were so. "

"Indeed I should have done so, but that I reasoned with myself upon thesubject, and subdued the impulse of the anger which some years ago, whenI had not seen so much of the world, would have guided me. "

"But why did you not impart to us your suspicions? We should at least, then, have been prepared for such a contingency as has occurred. "

"Place yourself in my position, and then yourself what you would havedone. Suspicion is one of those hideous things which all men should bemost specially careful not only how they entertain at all, but how theygive expression to. Besides, whatever may be the amount of one's owninternal conviction with regard to the character of any one, there isjust a possibility that one may be wrong. "

"True, true. "

"That possibility ought to keep any one silent who has nothing butsuspicion to go upon, however cautious it may make him, as regards hisdealings with the individual. I only suspected from little minute shadesof character, that would peep out in spite of him, that Charles Hollandwas not the honourable man he would fain have had everybody believe himto be. "

"And had you from the first such a feeling?"

"I had. "

"It is very strange. "

"Yes; and what is more strange still, is that he from the first seemedto know it; and despite a caution which I could see he always keptuppermost in his thoughts, he could not help speaking tartly to me attimes. "

"I have noticed that, " said George. 

"You may depend it is a fact, " added Marchdale, "that nothing so muchexcites the deadly and desperate hatred of a man who is acting ahypocritical part, as the suspicion, well grounded or not, that anothersees and understands the secret impulses of his dishonourable heart. "

"I cannot blame you, or any one else, Mr. Marchdale, " said Henry, "thatyou did not give utterance to your secret thoughts, but I do wish thatyou had done so. "

"Nay, dear Henry, " replied Mr. Marchdale, "believe me, I have made thismatter a subject of deep thought, and have abundance of reasons why Iought not to have spoken to you upon the subject. "

"Indeed!"

"Indeed I have, and not among the least important is the one, that if Ihad acquainted you with my suspicions, you would have found yourself inthe painful position of acting a hypocritical part yourself towards thisCharles Holland, for you must either have kept the secret that he wassuspected, or you must have shewn it to him by your behaviour. "

"Well, well. I dare say, Marchdale, you acted for the best. What shallwe do now?"

"Can you doubt?"

"I was thinking of letting Flora at once know the absolute and completeworthlessness of her lover, so that she could have no difficulty in atonce tearing herself from him by the assistance of the natural pridewhich would surely come to her aid, upon finding herself so muchdeceived. "

"The test may be possible. "

"You think so?"

"I do, indeed. "

"Here is a letter, which of course remains unopened, addressed to Floraby Charles Holland. The admiral rather thought it would hurt herfeelings to deliver her such an epistle, but I must confess I am of acontrary opinion upon that point, and think now the more evidence shehas of the utter worthlessness of him who professed to love her with somuch disinterested affection, the better it will be for her. "

"You could not, possibly, Henry, have taken a more sensible view of thesubject. "

"I am glad you agree with me. "

"No reasonable man could do otherwise, and from what I have seen ofAdmiral Bell, I am sure, upon reflection, he will be of the sameopinion. "

"Then it shall be so. The first shock to poor Flora may be severe, butwe shall then have the consolation of knowing that it is the only one, and that in knowing the very worst, she has no more on that score toapprehend. Alas, alas! the hand of misfortune now appears to havepressed heavily upon us indeed. What in the name of all that is unluckyand disastrous, will happen next, I wonder?"

"What can happen?" said Marchdale; "I think you have now got rid of thegreatest evil of all--a false friend. "

"We have, indeed. "

"Go, then, to Flora; assure her that in the affection of others who knowno falsehood, she will find a solace from every ill. Assure her thatthere are hearts that will place themselves between her and everymisfortune. "

Mr. Marchdale was much affected as he spoke. Probably he felt deeperthan he chose to express the misfortunes of that family for whom heentertained so much friendship. He turned aside his head to hide thetraces of emotion which, despite even his great powers of self-command, would shew themselves upon his handsome and intelligent countenance. Then it appeared as if his noble indignation had got, for a few briefmoments, the better of all prudence, and he exclaimed, --

"The villain! the worse than villain! who would, with a thousandartifices, make himself beloved by a young, unsuspecting, and beautifulgirl, but then to leave her to the bitterness of regret, that she hadever given such a man a place in her esteem. The heartless ruffian!"

"Be calm, Mr. Marchdale, I pray you be calm, " said George; "I never sawyou so much moved. "

"Excuse me, " he said, "excuse me; I am much moved, and I am human. Icannot always, let me strive my utmost, place a curb upon my feelings. "

"They are feelings which do you honour. "

"Nay, nay, I am foolish to have suffered myself to be led away into sucha hasty expression of them. I am accustomed to feel acutely and to feeldeeply, but it is seldom I am so much overcome as this. "

"Will you accompany us to the breakfast room at once, Mr. Marchdale, where we will make this communication to Flora; you will then be able tojudge by her manner of receiving it, what it will be best to say toher. "

"Come, then, and pray be calm. The least that is said upon this painfuland harassing subject, after this morning, will be the best. "

"You are right--you are right. "

Mr. Marchdale hastily put on his coat. He was dressed, with theexception of that one article of apparel, when the brothers came to hischamber, and then he came to the breakfast-parlour where the painfulcommunication was to be made to Flora of her lover's faithlessness. 

Flora was already seated in that apartment. Indeed, she had beenaccustomed to meet Charles Holland there before others of the familymade their appearance, but, alas! this morning the kind and tender loverwas not there. 

The expression that sat upon the countenances of her brothers, and ofMr. Marchdale, was quite sufficient to convince her that something moreserious than usual had occurred, and she at the moment turned very pale. Marchdale observed this change of change of countenance in her, and headvanced towards her, saying, --

"Calm yourself, Flora, we have something to communicate to you, but itis a something which should excite indignation, and no other feeling, inyour breast. "

"Brother, what is the meaning of this?" said Flora, turning aside fromMarchdale, and withdrawing the hand which he would have taken. 

"I would rather have Admiral Bell here before I say anything, " saidHenry, "regarding a matter in which he cannot but feel much interestedpersonally. "

"Here he is, " said the admiral, who at that moment had opened the doorof the breakfast room. "Here he is, so now fire away, and don't sparethe enemy. "

"And Charles?" said Flora, "where is Charles?"

"D--n Charles!" cried the admiral, who had not been much accustomed tocontrol his feelings. 

"Hush! hush!" said Henry; "my dear sir, bush! do not indulge now in anyinvectives. Flora, here are three letters; you will see that the onewhich is unopened is addressed to yourself. However, we wish you to readthe whole three of them, and then to form your own free and unbiasedopinion. "

Flora looked as pale as a marble statue, when she took the letters intoher hands. She let the two that were open fall on the table before her, while she eagerly broke the seal of that which was addressed to herself. 

[Illustration]

Henry, with an instinctive delicacy, beckoned every one present to thewindow, so that Flora had not the pain of feeling that any eyes werefixed upon her but those of her mother, who had just come into the room, while she was perusing those documents which told such a tale ofheartless dissimulation. 

"My dear child, " said Mrs. Bannerworth, "you are ill. "

"Hush! mother--hush!" said Flora, "let me know all. "

She read the whole of the letters through, and then, as the last onedropped from her grasp, she exclaimed, --

"Oh, God! oh, God! what is all that has occurred compared to this?Charles--Charles--Charles!"

"Flora!" exclaimed Henry, suddenly turning from the window. "Flora, isthis worthy of you?"

"Heaven now support me!"

"Is this worthy of the name you bear Flora? I should have thought, and Idid hope, that woman's pride would have supported you. "

"Let me implore you, " added Marchdale, "to summon indignation to youraid, Miss Bannerworth. "

"Charles--Charles--Charles!" she again exclaimed, as she wrung her handsdespairingly. 

"Flora, if anything could add a sting to my already irritated feelings, "said Henry, "this conduct of yours would. "

"Henry--brother, what mean you? Are you mad?"

"Are you, Flora?"

"God, I wish now that I was. "

"You have read those letters, and yet you call upon the name of him whowrote them with frantic tenderness. "

"Yes, yes, " she cried; "frantic tenderness is the word. It is withfrantic tenderness I call upon his name, and ever will. --Charles!Charles!--dear Charles!"

"This surpasses all belief, " said Marchdale. 

"It is the frenzy of grief, " added George; "but I did not expect it ofher. Flora--Flora, think again. "

"Think--think--the rush of thought distracts. Whence came theseletters?--where did you find these most disgraceful forgeries?"

"Forgeries!" exclaimed Henry; and he staggered back, as if some one badstruck him a blow. 

"Yes, forgeries!" screamed Flora. "What has become of Charles Holland?Has he been murdered by some secret enemy, and then these most vilefabrications made up in his name? Oh, Charles, Charles, are you lost tome for ever?"

"Good God!" said Henry; "I did not think of that"

"Madness!--madness!" cried Marchdale. 

"Hold!" shouted the admiral. "Let me speak to her. "

He pushed every one aside, and advanced to Flora. He seized both herhands in his own, and in a tone of voice that was struggling withfeeling, he cried, --

"Look at me, my dear; I'm an old man old enough to be your grandfather, so you needn't mind looking me steadily in the face. Look at me, I wantto ask you a question. "

Flora raised her beautiful eyes, and looked the old weather-beatenadmiral full in the face. 

Oh! what a striking contrast did those two persons present to eachother. That young and beautiful girl, with her small, delicate, childlike hands clasped, and completely hidden in the huge ones of theold sailor, the white, smooth skin contrasting wonderfully with hiswrinkled, hardened features. 

"My dear, " he cried, "you have read those--those d----d letters, mydear?"

"I have, sir. "

"And what do you think of them?"

"They were not written by Charles Holland, your nephew. "

A choking sensation seemed to come over the old man, and he tried tospeak, but in vain. He shook the hands of the young girl violently, until he saw that he was hurting her, and then, before she could beaware of what he was about, he gave her a kiss on the cheek, as hecried, --

"God bless you--God bless you! You are the sweetest, dearest littlecreature that ever was, or that ever will be, and I'm a d----d old fool, that's what I am. These letters were not written by my nephew, Charles. He is incapable of writing them, and, d--n me, I shall take shame tomyself as long as I live for ever thinking so. "

"Dear sir, " said Flora, who somehow or another did not seem at alloffended at the kiss which the old man had given her; "dear sir, howcould you believe, for one moment, that they came from him? There hasbeen some desperate villany on foot. Where is he?--oh, find him, if hebe yet alive. If they who have thus striven to steal from him thathonour, which is the jewel of his heart, have murdered him, seek themout, sir, in the sacred name of justice, I implore you. "

"I will--I will. I don't renounce him; he is my nephew still--CharlesHolland--my own dear sister's son; and you are the best girl, God blessyou, that ever breathed. He loved you--he loves you still; and if he'sabove ground, poor fellow, he shall yet tell you himself he never sawthose infamous letters. "

"You--you will seek for him?" sobbed Flora, and the tears gushed fromher eyes. "Upon you, sir, who, as I do, feel assured of his innocence, Ialone rely. If all the world say he is guilty, we will not think so. "

"I'm d----d if we do. "

Henry had sat down by the table, and, with his hands clasped together, seemed in an agony of thought. 

He was now roused by a thump on the back by the admiral, who cried, --

"What do you think, now, old fellow? D--n it, things look a littledifferent now. "

"As God is my judge, " said Henry, holding up his hands, "I know not whatto think, but my heart and feelings all go with you and with Flora, inyour opinion of the innocence of Charles Holland. "

"I knew you would say that, because you could not possibly help it, mydear boy. Now we are all right again, and all we have got to do is tofind out which way the enemy has gone, and then give chase to him. "

"Mr. Marchdale, what do you think of this new suggestion, " said Georgeto that gentleman. 

"Pray, excuse me, " was his reply; "I would much rather not be calledupon to give an opinion. "

"Why, what do you mean by that?" said the admiral. 

"Precisely what I say, sir. "

"D--n me, we had a fellow once in the combined fleets, who never had anopinion till after something had happened, and then he always said thatwas just what he thought. "

"I was never in the combined, or any other fleet, sir, " said Marchdale, coldly. 

"Who the devil said you were?" roared the admiral. 

Marchdale merely hawed. 

"However, " added the admiral, "I don't care, and never did, foranybody's opinion, when I know I am right. I'd back this dear girl herefor opinions, and good feelings, and courage to express them, againstall the world, I would, any day. If I was not the old hulk I am, I wouldtake a cruise in any latitude under the sun, if it was only for thechance of meeting with just such another. "

"Oh, lose no time!" said Flora. "If Charles is not to be found in thehouse, lose no time in searching for him, I pray you; seek him, whereverthere is the remotest probability he may chance to be. Do not let himthink he is deserted. "

"Not a bit of it, " cried the admiral. "You make your mind easy, my dear. If he's above ground, we shall find him out, you may depend upon it. Come along master Henry, you and I will consider what had best be donein this uncommonly ugly matter. "

Henry and George followed the admiral from the breakfast-room, leavingMarchdale there, who looked serious and full of melancholy thought. 

It was quite clear that he considered Flora had spoken from the generouswarmth of her affection as regarded Charles Holland, and not from theconvictions which reason would have enforced her to feel. 

When he was now alone with her and Mrs. Bannerworth, he spoke in afeeling and affectionate tone regarding the painful and inexplicableevents which had transpired. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

MR. MARCHDALE'S EXCULPATION OF HIMSELF. --THE SEARCH THROUGH THEGARDENS. --THE SPOT OF THE DEADLY STRUGGLE. --THE MYSTERIOUS PAPER. 

[Illustration]

It was, perhaps, very natural that, with her feelings towards CharlesHolland, Flora should shrink from every one who seemed to be of adirectly contrary impression, and when Mr. Marchdale now spoke, sheshowed but little inclination to hear what he had to say in explanation. 

The genuine and unaffected manner, however, in which he spoke, could notbut have its effect upon her, and she found herself compelled to listen, as well as, to a great extent, approve of the sentiments that fell fromhis lips. 

"Flora, " he said, "I beg that you will here, in the presence of yourmother, give me a patient hearing. You fancy that, because I cannot joinso glibly as the admiral in believing that these letters are forgeries, I must be your enemy. "

"Those letters, " said Flora, "were not written by Charles Holland. "

"That is your opinion. "

"It is more than an opinion. He could not write them. "

"Well, then, of course, if I felt inclined, which Heaven alone knows Ido not, I could not hope successfully to argue against such aconviction. But I do not wish to do so. All I want to impress upon youis, that I am not to be blamed for doubting his innocence; and, at thesame time, I wish to assure you that no one in this house would feelmore exquisite satisfaction than I in seeing it established. "

"I thank you for so much, " said Flora; "but as, to my mind, hisinnocence has never been doubted, it needs to me no establishing. "

"Very good. You believe these letters forgeries?"

"I do. "

"And that the disappearance of Charles Holland is enforced, and not ofhis own free will?"

"I do. "

"Then you may rely upon my unremitting exertions night and day to findhim and any suggestion you can make, which is likely to aid in thesearch, shall, I pledge myself, be fully carried out. "

"I thank you, Mr. Marchdale. "

"My dear, " said the mother, "rely on Mr. Marchdale. "

"I will rely on any one who believe Charles Holland innocent of writingthose odious letters, mother--I rely upon the admiral. He will aid meheart and hand. "

"And so will Mr. Marchdale. "

"I am glad to hear it. "

"And yet doubt it, Flora, " said Marchdale, dejectedly. "I am very sorrythat such should be the case; I will not, however, trouble you anyfurther, nor, give me leave to assure you, will I relax in my honestendeavours to clear up this mystery. "

So saying, Mr. Marchdale bowed, and left the room, apparently more vexedthan he cared to express at the misconstruction which had been put uponhis conduct and motives. He at once sought Henry and the admiral, towhom he expressed his most earnest desire to aid in attempting tounravel the mysterious circumstances which had occurred. 

"This strongly-expressed opinion of Flora, " he remarked, "is of courseamply sufficient to induce us to pause before we say one word more thatshall in any way sound like a condemnation of Mr. Holland. Heaven forbidthat I should. "

"No, " said the admiral; "don't. "

"I do not intend. "

"I would not advise anybody. "

"Sir, if you use that as a threat--"

"A threat?"

"Yes; I must say, it sounded marvellously like one. "

"Oh, dear, no--quite a mistake. I consider that every man has a fairright to the enjoyment of his opinion. All I have to remark is, that Ishall, after what has occurred, feel myself called upon to fight anybodywho says those letters were written by my nephew. "

"Indeed, sir!"

"Ah, indeed. "

"You will permit me to say such is a strange mode of allowing every onethe free enjoyment of his opinion. "

"Not at all. "

"Whatever pains and penalties may be the result, Admiral Bell, ofdiffering with so infallible authority as yourself, I shall do sowhenever my judgment induces me. "

"You will?"

"Indeed I will. "

"Very good. You know the consequences. "

"As to fighting you, I should refuse to do so. "

"Refuse?"

"Yes; most certainly. "

"Upon what ground?"

"Upon the ground that you were a madman. "

"Come, " now interposed Henry, "let me hope that, for my sake as well asfor Flora's, this dispute will proceed no further. "

"I have not courted it, " said Marchdale. "I have much temper, but I amnot a stick or a stone. "

"D----e, if I don't think, " said the admiral, "you are a bit of both. "

"Mr. Henry Bannerworth, " said Marchdale, "I am your guest, and but forthe duty I feel in assisting in the search for Mr. Charles Holland, Ishould at once leave your house. "

"You need not trouble yourself on my account, " said the admiral; "if Ifind no clue to him in the neighbourhood for two or three days, I shallbe off myself. "

"I am going, " said Henry, rising, "to search the garden and adjoiningmeadows; if you two gentlemen choose to come with me, I shall of coursebe happy of your company; if, however, you prefer remaining here towrangle, you can do so. "

This had the effect, at all events, of putting a stop to the dispute forthe present, and both the admiral and Mr. Marchdale accompanied Henry onhis search. That search was commenced immediately under the balcony ofCharles Holland's window, from which the admiral had seen him emerge. 

There was nothing particular found there, or in the garden. Admiral Bellpointed out accurately the route he had seen Charles take across thegrass plot just before he himself left his chamber to seek Henry. 

Accordingly, this route was now taken, and it led to a low part of thegarden wall, which any one of ordinary vigour could easily havesurmounted. 

"My impression is, " said the admiral, "that he got over here. "

"The ivy appears to be disturbed, " remarked Henry. 

"Suppose we mark the spot, and then go round to it on the outer side?"suggested George. 

This was agreed to; for, although the young man might have chosen ratherto clamber over the wall than go round, it was doubtful if the oldadmiral could accomplish such a feat. 

The distance round, however, was not great, and as they had cast overthe wall a handful of flowers from the garden to mark the precise spot, it was easily discoverable. 

The moment they reached it, they were panic-stricken by the appearanceswhich it presented. The grass was for some yards round about completelytrodden up, and converted into mud. There were deep indentations offeet-marks in all directions, and such abundance of evidence that somemost desperate struggle had recently taken place there, that the mostsceptical person in the world could not have entertained any doubt uponthe subject. 

Henry was the first to break the silence with which they each regardedthe broken ground. 

"This is conclusive to my mind, " he said, with a deep sigh. "Here haspoor Charles been attacked. "

"God keep him!" exclaimed Marchdale, "and pardon me my doubts--I am nowconvinced. "

The old admiral gazed about him like one distracted. Suddenly he cried--

"They have murdered him. Some fiends in the shape of men have murderedhim, and Heaven only knows for what. "

"It seems but too probable, " said Henry. "Let us endeavour to trace thefootsteps. Oh! Flora, Flora, what terrible news this will be to you. "

"A horrible supposition comes across my mind, " said George. "What if hemet the vampyre?"

"It may have been so, " said Marchdale, with a shudder. "It is a pointwhich we should endeavour to ascertain, and I think we may do so. "

"How!"

"By some inquiry as to whether Sir Francis Varney was from home atmidnight last night. "

"True; that might be done. "

"The question, suddenly put to one of his servants, would, mostprobably, be answered as a thing of course. "

"It would. "

"Then that shall be decided upon. And now, my friends, since you havesome of you thought me luke-warm in this business, I pledge myself that, should it be ascertained that Varney was from home at midnight lastevening, I will defy him personally, and meet him hand to hand. "

"Nay, nay, " said Henry, "leave that course to younger hands. "

"Why so?"

"It more befits me to be his challenger. "

"No, Henry. You are differently situated to what I am. "

"How so?"

"Remember, that I am in the world a lone man; without ties orconnexions. If I lose my life, I compromise no one by my death; but youhave a mother and a bereaved sister to look to who will deserve yourcare. "

"Hilloa, " cried the admiral, "what's this?"

"What?" cried each, eagerly, and they pressed forward to where theadmiral was stooping to the ground to pick up something which was nearlycompletely trodden into the grass. 

He with some difficulty raised it. It was a small slip of paper, onwhich was some writing, but it was so much covered with mud as not to belegible. 

"If this be washed, " said Henry, "I think we shall be able to read itclearly. "

"We can soon try that experiment, " said George. "And as the footsteps, by some mysterious means, show themselves nowhere else but in this oneparticular spot, any further pursuit of inquiry about here appearsuseless. "

"Then we will return to the house, " said Henry, "and wash the mud fromthis paper. "

"There is one important point, " remarked Marchdale, "which it appears tome we have all overlooked. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes. "

"What may that be?"

"It is this. Is any one here sufficiently acquainted with thehandwriting of Mr. Charles Holland to come to an opinion upon theletters?"

"I have some letters from him, " said Henry, "which we received while onthe continent, and I dare say Flora has likewise. "

"Then they should be compared with the alleged forgeries. "

"I know his handwriting well, " said the admiral. "The letters bear sostrong a resemblance to it that they would deceive anybody. "

"Then you may depend, " remarked Henry, "some most deep-laid anddesperate plot is going on. "

"I begin, " added Marchdale, "to dread that such must be the case. Whatsay you to claiming the assistance of the authorities, as well asoffering a large reward for any information regarding Mr. CharlesHolland?"

"No plan shall be left untried, you may depend. "

They had now reached the house, and Henry having procured some cleanwater, carefully washed the paper which had been found among the troddengrass. When freed from the mixture of clay and mud which had obscuredit, they made out the following words, --

"--it be so well. At the next full moon seek a convenient spot, and itcan be done. The signature is, to my apprehension, perfect. The moneywhich I hold, in my opinion, is much more in amount than you imagine, must be ours; and as for--"

Here the paper was torn across, and no further words were visible uponit. 

Mystery seemed now to be accumulating upon mystery; each one, as itshowed itself darkly, seeming to bear some remote relation to whatpreceded it; and yet only confusing it the more. 

That this apparent scrap of a letter had dropped from some one's pocketduring the fearful struggle, of which there were such ample evidences, was extremely probable; but what it related to, by whom it was written, or by whom dropped, were unfathomable mysteries. 

In fact, no one could give an opinion upon these matters at all; andafter a further series of conjectures, it could only be decided, thatunimportant as the scrap of paper appeared now to be, it should bepreserved, in case it should, as there was a dim possibility that itmight become a connecting link in some chain of evidence at anothertime. 

"And here we are, " said Henry, "completely at fault, and knowing notwhat to do. "

"Well, it is a hard case, " said the admiral, "that, with all the will inthe world to be up and doing something, we are lying here like a fleetof ships in a calm, as idle as possible. "

"You perceive we have no evidence to connect Sir Francis Varney withthis affair, either nearly or remotely, " said Marchdale. 

"Certainly not, " replied Henry. 

"But yet, I hope you will not lose sight of the suggestion I proposed, to the effect of ascertaining if he were from home last night. "

"But how is that to be carried out?"

"Boldly. "

"How boldly?"

"By going at once, I should advise, to his house, and asking the firstone of his domestics you may happen to see. "

"I will go over, " cried George; "on such occasions as these one cannotact upon ceremony. "

He seized his hat, and without waiting for a word from any one approvingor condemning his going, off he went. 

"If, " said Henry, "we find that Varney has nothing to do with thematter, we are completely at fault. "

"Completely, " echoed Marchdale. 

"In that case, admiral, I think we ought to defer to your feelings uponthe subject, and do whatever you suggest should be done. "

"I shall offer a hundred pounds reward to any one who can and will bringany news of Charles. "

"A hundred pounds is too much, " said Marchdale. 

"Not at all; and while I am about it, since the amount is made a subjectof discussion, I shall make it two hundred, and that may benefit somerascal who is not so well paid for keeping the secret as I will pay himfor disclosing it. "

"Perhaps you are right, " said Marchdale. 

"I know I am, as I always am. "

Marchdale could not forbear a smile at the opinionated old man, whothought no one's opinion upon any subject at all equal to his own; buthe made no remark, and only waited, as did Henry, with evident anxietyfor the return of George. 

The distance was not great, and George certainly performed his errandquickly, for he was back in less time than they had thought he couldreturn in. The moment he came into the room, he said, without waitingfor any inquiry to be made of him, --

"We are at fault again. I am assured that Sir Francis Varney neverstirred from home after eight o'clock last evening. "

"D--n it, then, " said the admiral, "let us give the devil his due. Hecould not have had any hand in this business. "

"Certainly not. "

"From whom, George, did you get your information?" asked Henry, in adesponding tone. 

"From, first of all, one of his servants, whom I met away from thehouse, and then from one whom I saw at the house. "

"There can be no mistake, then?"

"Certainly none. The servants answered me at once, and so frankly that Icannot doubt it. "

The door of the room was slowly opened, and Flora came in. She lookedalmost the shadow of what she had been but a few weeks before. She wasbeautiful, but she almost realised the poet's description of one who hadsuffered much, and was sinking into an early grave, the victim of abroken heart:--

 "She was more beautiful than death, And yet as sad to look upon. "

Her face was of a marble paleness, and as she clasped her hands, andglanced from face to face, to see if she could gather hope andconsolation from the expression of any one, she might have been takenfor some exquisite statue of despair. 

"Have you found him?" she said. Have you found Charles?"

"Flora, Flora, " said Henry, as he approached her. 

"Nay, answer me; have you found him? You went to seek him. Dead oralive, have you found him?"

"We have not, Flora. "

"Then I must seek him myself. None will search for him as I will search;I must myself seek him. 'Tis true affection that can alone be successfulin such a search. "

"Believe me, dear Flora, that all has been done which the shortness ofthe time that has elapsed would permit. Further measures will nowimmediately be taken. Rest assured, dear sister, that all will be donethat the utmost zeal can suggest. "

"They have killed him! they have killed him!" she said, mournfully. "Oh, God, they have killed him! I am not now mad, but the time will come whenI must surely be maddened. The vampyre has killed Charles Holland--thedreadful vampyre!"

"Nay, now, Flora, this is frenzy. "

"Because he loved me has he been destroyed. I know it, I know it. Thevampyre has doomed me to destruction. I am lost, and all who loved mewill be involved in one common ruin on my account. Leave me all of youto perish. If, for iniquities done in our family, some one must sufferto appease the divine vengeance, let that one be me, and only me. "

"Hush, sister, hush!" cried Henry. "I expected not this from you. Theexpressions you use are not your expressions. I know you better. Thereis abundance of divine mercy, but no divine vengeance. Be calm, I prayyou. "

"Calm! calm!"

"Yes. Make an exertion of that intellect we all know you to possess. Itis too common a thing with human nature, when misfortune overtakes it, to imagine that such a state of things is specially arranged. We quarrelwith Providence because it does not interfere with some special miraclein our favour; forgetting that, being denizens of this earth, andmembers of a great social system; We must be subject occasionally to theaccidents which will disturb its efficient working. "

"Oh, brother, brother!" she exclaimed, as she dropped into a seat, "youhave never loved. "

"Indeed!"

"No; you have never felt what it was to hold your being upon the breathof another. You can reason calmly, because you cannot know the extent offeeling you are vainly endeavouring to combat. "

"Flora, you do me less than justice. All I wish to impress upon yourmind is, that you are not in any way picked out by Providence to bespecially unhappy--that there is no perversion of nature on youraccount. "

"Call you that hideous vampyre form that haunts me no perversion ofordinary nature?"

"What is is natural, " said Marchdale. 

"Cold reasoning to one who suffers as I suffer. I cannot argue with you;I can only know that I am most unhappy--most miserable. "

"But that will pass away, sister, and the sun of your happiness maysmile again. "

"Oh, if I could but hope!"

"And wherefore should you deprive yourself of that poorest privilege ofthe most unhappy?"

"Because my heart tells me to despair. "

"Tell it you won't, then, " cried Admiral Bell. "If you had been at seaas long as I have, Miss Bannerworth, you would never despair of anythingat all. "

"Providence guarded you, " said Marchdale. 

"Yes, that's true enough, I dare say, I was in a storm once off CapeUshant, and it was only through Providence, and cutting away themainmast myself, that we succeeded in getting into port. "

"You have one hope, " said Marchdale to Flora, as he looked in her wanface. 

"One hope?"

"Yes. Recollect you have one hope. "

"What is that?"

"You think that, by removing from this place, you may find that peacewhich is here denied you. "

"No, no, no. "

"Indeed. I thought that such was your firm conviction. "

"It was; but circumstances have altered. "

"How?"

"Charles Holland has disappeared here, and here must I remain to seekfor him. "

"True he may have disappeared here, " remarked Marchdale; "and yet thatmay be no argument for supposing him still here. "

"Where, then, is he?"

"God knows how rejoiced I should be if I were able to answer yourquestion. I must seek him, dead or alive! I must see him yet before Ibid adieu to this world, which has now lost all its charms for me. "

"Do not despair, " said Henry; "I will go to the town now at once, tomake known our suspicions that he has met with some foul play. I willset every means in operation that I possibly can to discover him. Mr. Chillingworth will aid me, too; and I hope that not many days willelapse, Flora, before some intelligence of a most satisfactory natureshall be brought to you on Charles Holland's account. "

"Go, go, brother; go at once. "

"I go now at once. "

"Shall I accompany you?" said Marchdale. 

"No. Remain here to keep watch over Flora's safety while I am gone; Ican alone do all that can be done. "

"And don't forget to offer the two hundred pounds reward, " said theadmiral, "to any one who can bring us news of Charles, on which we canrely. "

"I will not. "

"Surely--surely something must result from that, " said Flora, as shelooked in the admiral's face, as if to gather encouragement in herdawning hopes from its expression. 

"Of course it will, my dear, " he said. "Don't you be downhearted; youand I are of one mind in this affair, and of one mind we will keep. Wewon't give up our opinions for anybody. "

"Our opinions, " she said, "of the honour and honesty of Charles Holland. That is what we will adhere to. "

"Of course we will. "

"Ah, sir, it joys me, even in the midst of this, my affliction, to findone at least who is determined to do him full justice. We cannot findsuch contradictions in nature as that a mind, full of noble impulses, should stoop to such a sudden act of selfishness as those letters wouldattribute to Charles Holland. It cannot--cannot be. "

"You are right, my dear. And now, Master Henry, you be off, will you, ifyou please. "

"I am off now. Farewell, Flora, for a brief space. "

"Farewell, brother; and Heaven speed you on your errand. "

"Amen to that, " cried the admiral; "and now, my dear, if you have gothalf an hour to spare, just tuck your arm under mine, and take a walkwith me in the garden, for I want to say something to you. "

"Most willingly, " said Flora. 

"I would not advise you to stray far from the house, Miss Bannerworth, "said Marchdale. 

"Nobody asked you for advice, " said the admiral. "D----e, do you want tomake out that I ain't capable of taking care of her?"

"No, no; but--"

"Oh, nonsense! Come along, my dear; and if all the vampyres and odd fishthat were ever created were to come across our path, we would settlethem somehow or another. Come along, and don't listen to anybody'scroaking. "

CHAPTER XXIX. 

A PEEP THROUGH AN IRON GRATING. --THE LONELY PRISONER IN HISDUNGEON. --THE MYSTERY. 

[Illustration]

Without forestalling the interest of our story, or recording a fact inits wrong place, we now call our readers' attention to a circumstancewhich may, at all events, afford some food for conjecture. 

Some distance from the Hall, which, from time immemorial, had been thehome and the property of the Bannerworth family, was an ancient ruinknown by the name of the Monks' Hall. 

It was conjectured that this ruin was the remains of some one of thosehalf monastic, half military buildings which, during the middle ages, were so common in almost every commanding situation in every county ofEngland. 

At a period of history when the church arrogated to itself an amount ofpolitical power which the intelligence of the spirit of the age nowdenies to it, and when its members were quite ready to assert at anytime the truth of their doctrines by the strong arm of power, suchbuildings as the one, the old grey ruins of which were situated near toBannerworth Hall, were erected. 

Ostensibly for religious purposes, but really as a stronghold fordefence, as well as for aggression, this Monks' Hall, as it was called, partook quite as much of the character of a fortress, as of anecclesiastical building. 

The ruins covered a considerable extent, of ground, but the only partwhich seemed successfully to have resisted the encroaches of time, atleast to a considerable extent, was a long, hall in which the jollymonks no doubt feasted and caroused. 

Adjoining to this hall, were the walls of other parts of the building, and at several places there were small, low, mysterious-looking doorsthat led, heaven knows where, into some intricacies and labyrinthsbeneath the building, which no one had, within the memory of man, beencontent to run the risk of losing himself in. 

[Illustration]

It was related that among these subterranean passages and arches therewere pitfalls and pools of water; and whether such a statement was trueor not, it certainly acted as a considerable damper upon the vigour ofcuriosity. 

This ruin was so well known in the neighbourhood, and had become fromearliest childhood so familiar to the inhabitants of Bannerworth Hall, that one would as soon expect an old inhabitant of Ludgate-hill to makesome remark about St. Paul's, as any of them to allude to the ruins ofMonks' Hall. 

They never now thought of going near to it, for in infancy they hadspoiled among its ruins, and it had become one of those familiar objectswhich, almost, from that very familiarity, cease to hold a place in thememories of those who know it so well. 

It is, however, to this ruin we would now conduct our readers, premisingthat what we have to say concerning it now, is not precisely in the formof a connected portion of our narrative. 

 * * * * *

It is evening--the evening of that first day of heart loneliness to poorFlora Bannerworth. The lingering rays of the setting sun are gilding theold ruins with a wondrous beauty. The edges of the decayed stones seemnow to be tipped with gold, and as the rich golden refulgence of lightgleams upon the painted glass which still adorned a large window of thehall, a flood of many-coloured beautiful light was cast within, makingthe old flag-stones, with which the interior was paved, look more likesome rich tapestry, laid down to do honour to a monarch. 

So picturesque and so beautiful an aspect did the ancient ruin wear, that to one with a soul to appreciate the romantic and the beautiful, itwould have amply repaid the fatigue of a long journey now to see it. 

And as the sun sank to rest, the gorgeous colours that it cast upon themouldering wall, deepened from an appearance of burnished gold to acrimson hue, and from that again the colour changed to a shiftingpurple, mingling with the shadows of the evening, and so graduallyfading away into absolute darkness. 

The place is as silent as the tomb--a silence far more solemn than couldhave existed, had there been no remains of a human habitation; becauseeven these time-worn walls were suggestive of what once had been; andthe wrapt stillness which now pervaded them brought with them amelancholy feeling for the past. 

There was not even the low hum of insect life to break the stillness ofthese ancient ruins. 

And now the last rays of the sun are gradually fading away. In a shorttime all will be darkness. A low gentle wind is getting up, andbeginning slightly to stir the tall blades of grass that have shot upbetween some of the old stones. The silence is broken, awfully broken, by a sudden cry of despair; such a cry as might come from someimprisoned spirit, doomed to waste an age of horror in a tomb. 

And yet it was scarcely to be called a scream, and not all a groan. Itmight have come from some one on the moment of some dreadful sacrifice, when the judgment had not sufficient time to call courage to its aid, but involuntarily had induced that sound which might not be repeated. 

A few startled birds flew from odd holes and corners about the ruins, toseek some other place of rest. The owl hooted from a corner of what hadonce been a belfry, and a dreamy-looking bat flew out from a cranny andstruck itself headlong against a projection. 

Then all was still again. Silence resumed its reign, and if there hadbeen a mortal ear to drink in that sudden sound, the mind might wellhave doubted if fancy had not more to do with the matter than reality. 

From out a portion of the ruins that was enveloped in the deepest gloom, there now glides a figure. It is of gigantic height, and it moves alongwith a slow and measured tread. An ample mantle envelopes the form, which might well have been taken for the spirit of one of the monks who, centuries since, had made that place their home. 

It walked the whole length of the ample hall we have alluded to, andthen, at the window from which had streamed the long flood of manycoloured light, it paused. 

For more than ten minutes this mysterious looking figure there stood. 

At length there passed something on the outside of the window, thatlooked like the shadow of a human form. 

Then the tall, mysterious, apparition-looking man turned, and sought aside entrance to the hall. 

Then he paused, and, in about a minute, he was joined by another whomust have been he who had so recently passed the stained glass window onthe outer side. 

There was a friendly salutation between these two beings, and theywalked to the centre of the hall, where they remained for some time inanimated conversation. 

From the gestures they used, it was evident that the subject of theirdiscourse was one of deep and absorbing interest to both. It was one, too, upon which, after a time, they seemed a little to differ, and morethan once they each assumed attitudes of mutual defiance. 

This continued until the sun had so completely sunk, that twilight wasbeginning sensibly to wane, and then gradually the two men appeared tohave come to a better understanding, and whatever might be the subjectof their discourse, there was some positive result evidently arrived atnow. 

They spoke in lower tones. They used less animated gestures than before;and, after a time, they both walked slowly down the hull towards thedark spot from whence the first tall figure had so mysteriously emerged. 

 * * * * *

There it a dungeon--damp and full of the most unwholesomeexhalations--deep under ground it seems, and, in its excavations, itwould appear as if some small land springs had been liberated, for theearthen floor was one continued extent of moisture. 

From the roof, too, came perpetually the dripping of water, which fellwith sullen, startling splashes in the pool below. 

At one end, and near to the roof, --so near that to reach it, without themost efficient means from the inside, was a matter of positiveimpossibility--is a small iron grating, and not much larger than mightbe entirely obscured by any human face that might be close to it fromthe outside of the dungeon. 

That dreadful abode is tenanted. In one corner, on a heap of straw, which appears freshly to have been cast into the place, lies a hopelessprisoner. 

It is no great stretch of fancy to suppose, that it is from his lipscame the sound of terror and of woe that had disturbed the repose ofthat lonely spot. 

The prisoner is lying on his back; a rude bandage round his head, onwhich were numerous spots of blood, would seem to indicate that he hadsuffered personal injury in some recent struggle. His eyes were open. They were fixed desparingly, perhaps unconsciously, upon that smallgrating which looked into the upper world. 

That grating slants upwards, and looks to the west, so that any oneconfined in that dreary dungeon might be tantalized, on a sweet summer'sday, by seeing the sweet blue sky, and occasionally the white cloudsflitting by in that freedom which he cannot hope for. 

The carol of a bird, too, might reach him there. Alas! sad remembranceof life, and joy, and liberty. 

But now all is deepening gloom. The prisoner sees nothing--hearsnothing; and the sky is not quite dark. That small grating looks like astrange light-patch in the dungeon wall. 

Hark! some footstep sounds upon his ear. The creaking of a doorfollows--a gleam of light shines into the dungeon, and the tallmysterious-looking figure in the cloak stands before the occupant ofthat wretched place. 

Then comes in the other man, and he carries in his hand writingmaterials. He stoops to the stone couch on which the prisoner lies, andoffers him a pen, as he raises him partially from the miserable damppallet. 

But there is no speculation in the eyes of that oppressed man. In vainthe pen is repeatedly placed in his grasp, and a document of somelength, written on parchment, spread out before him to sign. In vain ishe held up now by both the men, who have thus mysteriously sought him inhis dungeon; he has not power to do as they would wish him. The penfalls from his nerveless grasp, and, with a deep sigh, when they ceaseto hold him up, he falls heavily back upon the stone couch. 

Then the two men looked at each other for about a minute silently; afterwhich he who was the shorter of the two raised one hand, and, in a voiceof such concentrated hatred and passion as was horrible to hear, hesaid, --

"D--n!"

The reply of the other was a laugh; and then he took the light from thefloor, and motioned the one who seemed so little able to control hisfeelings of bitterness and disappointment to leave the place with him. 

With a haste and vehemence, then, which showed how much angered he was, the shorter man of the two now rolled up the parchment, and placed it ina breast-pocket of his coat. 

He cast a withering look of intense hatred on the form of thenearly-unconscious prisoner, and then prepared to follow the other. 

But when they reached the door of the dungeon, the taller man of the twopaused, and appeared for a moment or two to be in deep thought; afterwhich he handed the lamp he carried to his companion, and approached thepallet of the prisoner. 

He took from his pocket a small bottle, and, raising the head of thefeeble and wounded man, he poured some portion of the contents into hismouth, and watched him swallow it. 

The other looked on in silence, and then they both slowly left thedreary dungeon. 

* * *

The wind rose, and the night had deepened into the utmost darkness. Theblackness of a night, unillumined by the moon, which would not now risefor some hours, was upon the ancient ruins. All was calm and still, andno one would have supposed that aught human was within those ancient, dreary looking walls. 

Time will show who it was who lay in that unwholesome dungeon, as wellas who were they who visited him so mysteriously, and retired again withfeelings of such evident disappointment with the document it seemed ofsuch importance, at least to one of them, to get that unconscious man tosign. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

THE VISIT OF FLORA TO THE VAMPYRE. --THE OFFER. --THE SOLEMN ASSEVERATION. 

[Illustration]

Admiral Bell had, of course, nothing particular to communicate to Florain the walk he induced her to take with him in the gardens ofBannerworth Hall, but he could talk to her upon a subject which was sureto be a welcome one, namely, of Charles Holland. 

And not only could he talk to her of Charles, but he was willing to talkof him in the style of enthusiastic commendation which assimilated bestwith her own feelings. No one but the honest old admiral, who was asviolent in his likes and his dislikes as any one could possibly be, could just then have conversed with Flora Bannerworth to hersatisfaction of Charles Holland. 

He expressed no doubts whatever concerning Charles's faith, and to hismind, now that he had got that opinion firmly fixed in his mind, everybody that held a contrary one he at once denounced as a fool or arogue. 

"Never you mind, Miss Flora, " he said; "you will find, I dare say, thatall will come right eventually. D--n me! the only thing that provokes mein the whole business is, that I should have been such an old fool asfor a moment to doubt Charles. "

"You should have known him better, sir. "

"I should, my dear, but I was taken by surprise, you see, and that waswrong, too, for a man who has held a responsible command. "

"But the circumstances, dear sir, were of a nature to take every one bysurprise. "

"They were, they were. But now, candidly speaking, and I know I canspeak candidly to you; do you really think this Varney is the vampyre?"

"I do. "

"You do? Well, then, somebody must tackle him, that's quite clear; wecan't put up with his fancies always. "

"What can be done?"

"Ah, that I don't know, but something must be done, you know. He wantsthis place; Heaven only knows why or wherefore he has taken such a fancyto it; but he has done so, that is quite clear. If it had a good seaview, I should not be so much surprised; but there's nothing of thesort, so it's no way at all better than any other shore-going stupidsort of house, that you can see nothing but land from. "

"Oh, if my brother would but make some compromise with him to restoreCharles to us and take the house, we might yet be happy. "

"D--n it! then you still think that he has a hand in spiriting awayCharles?"

"Who else could do so?"

"I'll be hanged if I know. I do feel tolerably sure, and I have gooddeal of reliance upon your opinion, my dear; I say, I do feel tolerablysure: but, if I was d----d sure, now, I'd soon have it out of him. "

"For my sake, Admiral Bell, I wish now to extract one promise from you. "

"Say your say, my dear, and I'll promise you. "

"You will not then expose yourself to the danger of any personalconflict with that most dreadful man, whose powers of mischief we do notknow, and therefore cannot well meet or appreciate. "

"Whew! is that what you mean?"

"Yes; you will, I am sure, promise me so much. "

"Why, my dear, you see the case is this. In affairs of fighting, theless ladies interfere the better. "

"Nay, why so?"

"Because--because, you see, a lady has no reputation for courage to keepup. Indeed, it's rather the other way, for we dislike a bold woman asmuch as we hold in contempt a cowardly man. "

"But if you grant to us females that in consequence of our affections, we are not courageous, you must likewise grant how much we are doomed tosuffer from the dangers of those whom we esteem. "

"You would be the last person in the world to esteem a coward. "

"Certainly. But there is more true courage often in not fighting than inentering into a contest. "

"You are right enough there, my dear. "

"Under ordinary circumstances, I should not oppose your carrying out thedictates of your honour, but now, let me entreat you not to meet thisdreadful man, if man he can be called, when you know not how unfair thecontest may be. "

"Unfair?"

"Yes. May he not have some means of preventing you from injuring him, and of overcoming you, which no mortal possesses?"

"He may. "

"Then the supposition of such a case ought to be sufficient ground forat once inducing you to abandon all idea of meeting with him. "

"My dear, I'll consider of this matter. "

"Do so. "

"There is another thing, however, which now you will permit me to ask ofyou as a favour. "

"It is granted ere it is spoken. "

"Very good. Now you must not be offended with what I am going to say, because, however it may touch that very proper pride which you, and suchas you, are always sure to possess, you are fortunately at all timesable to call sufficient judgment to your aid to enable you to see whatis really offensive and what is not. "

"You alarm me by such a preface. "

"Do I? then here goes at once. Your brother Henry, poor fellow, hasenough to do, has he not, to make all ends meet. "

A flush of excitement came over Flora's cheek as the old admiral thusbluntly broached a subject of which she already knew the bitterness tosuch a spirit as her brother's. 

"You are silent, " continued the old man; "by that I guess I am not wrongin my I supposition; indeed it is hardly a supposition at all, forMaster Charles told me as much, and no doubt he had it from a correctquarter. "

"I cannot deny it, sir. "

"Then don't. It ain't worth denying, my dear. Poverty is no crime, but, like being born a Frenchman, it's a d----d misfortune. "

Flora could scarcely refuse a smile, as the nationality of the oldadmiral peeped out even in the midst of his most liberal and bestfeelings. 

"Well, " he continued, "I don't intend that he shall have so much troubleas he has had. The enemies of his king and his country shall free himfrom his embarrassments. "

"The enemies?"

"Yes; who else?"

"You speak in riddles, sir. "

"Do I? Then I'll soon make the riddles plain. When I went to sea I wasworth nothing--as poor as a ship's cat after the crew had been paid offfor a month. Well, I began fighting away as hard and fast as I could, and the more I fought, and the more hard knocks I gave and took, themore money I got. "

"Indeed. "

"Yes; prize after prize we hauled into port, and at last the Frenchvessels wouldn't come out of their harbours. "

"What did you do then?"

"What did we do then? Why what was the most natural thing in the wholeworld for us to do, we did. "

"I cannot guess. "

"Well, I am surprised at that. Try again. "

"Oh, yes; I can guess now. How could I have been so dull? You went andtook them out. "

"To be sure we did--to be sure we did, my dear; that's how we managedthem. And, do you see, at the end of the war I found myself with lots ofprize money, all wrung from old England's enemies, and I intend thatsome of it shall find it's way to your brother's pocket; and you seethat will bear out just what I said, that the enemies of his king andhis country shall free him from his difficulties--don't you see?"

"I see your noble generosity, admiral. "

"Noble fiddlestick! Now I have mentioned this matter to you, my dear, and I don't so much mind talking to you about such matters as I shouldto your brother, I want you to do me the favour of managing it all forme. "

"How, sir?"

"Why, just this way. You must find out how much money will free yourbrother just now from a parcel of botherations that beset him, and thenI will give it to you, and you can hand it to him, you see, so I neednot say anything about it; and if he speaks to me on the subject at all, I can put him down at once by saying, 'avast there, it's no business ofmine. '"

"And can you, dear admiral, imagine that I could conceal the generoussource from where so much assistance came?"

"Of course; it will come from you. I take a fancy to make you a presentof a sum of money; you do with it what you please--it's yours, and Ihave no right and no inclination to ask you what use you put it to. "

Tears gushed from the eyes of Flora as she tried to utter some word, butcould not. The admiral swore rather fearfully, and pretended to wondermuch what on earth she could be crying for. At length, after the firstgush of feeling was over, she said, --

"I cannot accept of so much generosity, sir--I dare not"

"Dare not!"

"No; I should think meanly of myself were I to take advantage of theboundless munificence of your nature. "

"Take advantage! I should like to see anybody take advantage of me, that's all. "

"I ought not to take the money of you. I will speak to my brother, andwell I know how much he will appreciate the noble, generous offer, mydear sir. "

"Well, settle it your own way, only remember I have a right to do what Ilike with my own money. "

"Undoubtedly. "

"Very good. Then as that is undoubted, whatever I lend to him, mind Igive to you, so it's as broad as it's long, as the Dutchman said, whenhe looked at the new ship that was built for him, and you may as welltake it yourself you see, and make no more fuss about it. "

"I will consider, " said Flora, with much emotion--"between this time andthe same hour to-morrow I will consider, sir, and if you can find anywords more expressive of heartfelt gratitude than others, pray imaginethat I have used them with reference to my own feelings towards you forsuch an unexampled offer of friendship. "

"Oh, bother--stuff. "

The admiral now at once changed the subject, and began to talk ofCharles--a most grateful theme to Flora, as may well be supposed. Herelated to her many little particulars connected with him which alltended to place his character in a most amiable light, and as her earsdrank in the words of commendation of him she loved, what sweeter musiccould there be to her than the voice of that old weather-beatenrough-spoken man. 

"The idea, " he added, to a warm eulogium he had uttered concerningCharles--"the idea that he could write those letters my dear, is quiteabsurd. "

"It is, indeed. Oh, that we could know what had become of him!"

"We shall know. I don't think but what he's alive. Something seems toassure me that we shall some of these days look upon his face again. "

"I am rejoiced to hear you say so. "

"We will stir heaven and earth to find him. If he were killed, do yousee, there would have been some traces of him now at hand; besides, hewould have been left lying where the rascals attacked him. "

Flora shuddered. 

"But don't you fret yourself. You may depend that the sweet littlecherub that sits up aloft has looked after him. "

"I will hope so. "

"And now, my dear, Master Henry will soon be home, I am thinking, and ashe has quite enough disagreeables on his own mind to be able to spare afew of them, you will take the earliest opportunity, I am sure, ofacquainting him with the little matter we have been talking about, andlet me know what he says. "

"I will--I will. "

"That's right. Now, go in doors, for there's a cold air blowing here, and you are a delicate plant rather just now--go in and make yourselfcomfortable and easy. The worst storm must blow over at last. "

CHAPTER XXXI. 

SIR FRANCIS VARNEY AND HIS MYSTERIOUS VISITOR. --THE STRANGE CONFERENCE. 

Sir Francis Varney is in what he calls his own apartment. It is night, and a dim and uncertain light from a candle which has been longneglected, only serves to render obscurity more perplexing. The room isa costly one. One replete with all the appliances of refinement andluxury which the spirit and the genius of the age could possibly supplyhim with, but there is upon his brow the marks of corroding care, andlittle does that most mysterious being seem to care for all the richfurnishing of that apartment in which he sits. 

His cadaverous-looking face is even paler and more death-like-lookingthan usual; and, if it can be conceived possible that such an one canfeel largely interested in human affairs, to look at him, we could wellsuppose that some interest of no common magnitude was at stake. 

Occasionally, too, he muttered some unconnected words, no doubt mentallyfilling up the gaps, which rendered the sentences incomplete, and beingunconscious, perhaps, that he was giving audible utterance to any of hisdark and secret meditations. 

At length he rose, and with an anxious expression of countenance, hewent to the window, and looked out into the darkness of the night. Allwas still, and not an object was visible. It was that pitchy darknesswithout, which, for some hours, when the moon is late in lending herreflected beams, comes over the earth's surface. 

"It is near the hour, " he muttered. "It is now very near the hour;surely he will come, and yet I know not why I should fear him, althoughI seem to tremble at the thought of his approach. He will surely come. Once a year--only once does he visit me, and then 'tis but to take theprice which he has compelled me to pay for that existence, which but forhim had been long since terminated. Sometimes I devoutly wish it were. "

With a shudder he returned to the seat he had so recently left, andthere for some time he appeared to meditate in silence. 

Suddenly now, a clock, which was in the hall of that mansion he hadpurchased, sounded the hour loudly. 

"The time has come, " said Sir Francis. "The time has come. He willsurely soon be here. Hark! hark!"

Slowly and distinctly he counted the strokes of the clock, and, whenthey had ceased, he exclaimed, with sudden surprise--

"Eleven! But eleven! How have I been deceived. I thought the hour ofmidnight was at hand. "

He hastily consulted the watch he wore, and then he indeed found, thatwhatever he had been looking forward to with dread for some time past, as certain to ensue, at or about twelve o clock, had yet another hour inwhich to prey upon his imagination. 

"How could I have made so grievous an error?" he exclaimed. "Anotherhour of suspense and wonder as to whether that man be among the livingor the dead. I have thought of raising my hand against his life, butsome strange mysterious feeling has always staid me; and I have let himcome and go freely, while an opportunity might well have served me toput such a design into execution. He is old, too--very old, and yet hekeeps death at a distance. He looked pale, but far from unwell orfailing, when last I saw him. Alas! a whole hour yet to wait. I wouldthat this interview were over. "

That extremely well known and popular disease called the fidgets, nowbegan, indeed, to torment Sir Francis Varney. He could not sit--he couldnot walk, and, somehow or another, he never once seemed to imagine thatfrom the wine cup he should experience any relief, although, upon a sidetable, there stood refreshments of that character. And thus some moretime passed away, and he strove to cheat it of its weariness by thinkingof a variety of subjects; but as the fates would have it, there seemednot one agreeable reminiscence in the mind of that most inexplicableman, and the more he plunged into the recesses of memory the moreuneasy, not to say almost terrified, he looked and became. A shudderingnervousness came across him, and, for a few moments, be sat as if hewere upon the point of fainting. By a vigorous effort, however, he shookthis off, and then placing before him the watch, which now indicatedabout the quarter past eleven, he strove with a calmer aspect to waitthe coming of him whose presence, when he did come, would really be agreat terror, since the very thought beforehand produced so muchhesitation and apparent dismay. 

In order too, if possible, then to further withdraw himself from a toopainful consideration of those terrors, which in due time the readerwill be acquainted with the cause of, he took up a book, and plunging atrandom into its contents, he amused his mind for a time with thefollowing brief narrative:--

The wind howled round the gable ends of Bridport House in sudden andfurious gusts, while the inmates sat by the fire-side, gazing in silenceupon the blazing embers of the huge fire that shed a red and brightlight all over the immense apartment in which they all sat. 

It was an ancient looking place, very large, end capable of containing anumber of guests. Several were present. 

An aged couple were seated in tall high straight-backed chairs. Theywere the owners of that lordly mansion, and near them sat two youngmaidens of surpassing beauty; they were dissimilar, and yet there was aslight likeness, but of totally different complexions. 

The one had tresses of raven black; eyebrows, eyelashes, and eyes wereall of the same hue; she was a beautiful and proud-looking girl, hercomplexion clear, with the hue of health upon her cheeks, while a smileplayed around her lips. The glance of the eye was sufficient to thrillthrough the whole soul. 

The other maiden was altogether different; her complexion altogetherfairer--her hair of sunny chestnut, and her beautiful hazel eyes wereshaded by long brown eyelashes, while a playful smile also lit up hercountenance. She was the younger of the two. 

The attention of the two young maidens had been directed to the words ofthe aged owner of the house, for he had been speaking a few momentsbefore. 

There were several other persons present, and at some little distancewere many of the domestics who were not denied the privilege of warmthand rest in the presence of their master. 

These were not the times, when, if servants sat down, they were deemedidle; but the daily task done, then the evening hour was spent by thefire-side. 

"The wind howls and moans, " said an aged domestic, "in an awful manner. I never heard the like. "

"It seems as though same imprisoned spirit was waiting for the reposethat had been denied on earth, " said the old lady as she shifted herseat and gazed steadily on the fire. 

"Ay, " said her aged companion, "it is a windy night, and there will be astorm before long, or I'm mistaken. "

"It was just such a night as that my son Henry left his home, " said Mrs. Bradley, "just such another--only it had the addition of sleet andrain. "

The old man sighed at the mention of his son's name, a tear stood in theeyes of the maidens, while one looked silently at the other, and seemedto exchange glances. 

"I would that I might again see him before my body seeks its final homein the cold remorseless grave. "

"Mother, " said the fairest of the two maidens, "do not talk thus, let ushope that we yet may have many years of happiness together. "

"Many, Emma?"

"Yes, mamma, many. "

"Do you know that I am very old, Emma, very old indeed, considering whatI have suffered, such a life of sorrow and ill health is at least equalto thirty years added to my life. "

"You may have deceived yourself, aunt, " said the other maiden; "at allevents, you cannot count upon life as certain, for the strongest oftengo first, while those who seem much more likely to fall, by care, asoften live in peace and happiness. "

"But I lead no life of peace and happiness, while Henry Bradley is nothere; besides, my life might be passed without me seeing him again. "

"It is now two years since he was here last, " said the old man, "This night two years was the night on which he left. "

"This night two years?"

"Yes. "

"It was this night two years, " said one of the servant men, "because oldDame Poutlet had twins on that night. "

"A memorable circumstance. "

"And one died at a twelvemonth old, " said the man; "and she had a dreamwhich foretold the event. "

"Ay, ay. "

"Yes, and moreover she's had the same dream again last Wednesday was aweek, " said the man. 

"And lost the other twin?"

"Yes sir, this morning. "

"Omens multiply, " said the aged man; "I would that it would seem toindicate the return of Henry to his home. "

"I wonder where he can have gone to, or what he could have done all thistime; probably he may not be in the land of the living. "

"Poor Henry, " said Emma. 

"Alas, poor boy! We may never see him again--it was a mistaken act ofhis, and yet he knew not otherwise how to act or escape his father'sdispleasure. "

"Say no more--say no more upon that subject; I dare not listen to it. God knows I know quite enough, " said Mr. Bradley; "I knew not he wouldhave taken my words so to heart as he did. "

"Why, " said the old woman, "he thought you meant what you said. "

There was a long pause, during which all gazed at the blazing fire, seemingly wrapt in their own meditation. 

Henry Bradley, the son of the apparently aged couple, had left that daytwo years, and wherefore had he left the home of his childhood?wherefore had he, the heir to large estates, done this?

He had dared to love without his father's leave, and had refused theoffer his father made him of marrying a young lady whom he had chosenfor him, but whom he could not love. 

It was as much a matter of surprise to the father that the son shouldrefuse, as it was to the son that his father should contemplate such amatch. 

"Henry, " said the father, "you have been thought of by me, I have madeproposals for marrying you to the daughter of our neighbour, Sir ArthurOnslow. "

"Indeed, father!"

"Yes; I wish you to go there with me to see the young lady. "

"In the character of a suitor?"

"Yes, " replied the father, "certainly; it's high time you were settled. "

"Indeed, I would rather not go, father; I have no intention of marryingjust yet. I do not desire to do so. "

This was an opposition that Mr. Bradley had not expected from his son, and which his imperious temper could ill brook, and with a darkened browhe said, --

"It is not much, Henry, that I trespass upon your obedience; but when Ido so, I expect that you will obey me. "

"But, father, this matter affects me for my whole life. "

"That is why I have deliberated so long and carefully over it. "

"But it is not unreasonable that I should have a voice in the affair, father, since it may render me miserable. "

"You shall have a voice. "

"Then I say no to the whole regulation, " said Henry, decisively. 

"If you do so you forfeit my protection, much more favour; but you hadbetter consider over what you have said. Forget it, and come with me. "

"I cannot. "

"You will not?"

"No, father; I cannot do as you wish me; my mind is fully made up uponthat matter. "

[Illustration]

"And so is mine. You either do as I would have you, or you leave thehouse, and seek your own living, and you are a beggar. "

"I should prefer being such, " said Henry, "than to marry any young lady, and be unable to love her. "

"That is not required. "

"No! I am astonished! Not necessary to love the woman you marry!"

"Not at all; if you act justly towards her she ought to be grateful; andit is all that is requisite in the marriage state. Gratitude will begetlove, and love in one begets love in the other. "

"I will not argue with you, father, upon the matter. You are a betterjudge than I; you have had more experience. "

"I have. "

"And it would be useless to speak upon the subject; but of this I canspeak--my own resolve--that I will not marry the lady in question. "

The son had all the stern resolve of the father, but he had also verygood reasons for what he did. He loved, and was beloved in return; andhence he would not break his faith with her whom he loved. 

To have explained this to his father would have been to gain nothingexcept an accession of anger, and he would have made a new demand uponhis (the son's) obedience, by ordering him to discard from his bosom theimage that was there indelibly engraven. 

"You will not marry her whom I have chosen for your bride?"

"I cannot. "

"Do not talk to me of can and can't, when I speak of will and wont. ItIs useless to disguise the fact. You have your free will in the matter. I shall take no answer but yes or no. "

"Then, no, father. "

"Good, sir; and now we are strangers. "

With that Mr. Bradley turned abruptly from his son, and left him tohimself. 

It was the first time they had any words or difference together, and itwas sudden and soon terminated. 

Henry Bradley was indignant at what had happened; he did not think hisfather would have acted as he had done in this instance; but he was toomuch interested in the fate of another to hesitate for a moment. Thencame the consideration as to what he should do, now that he had arrivedat such a climax. 

His first thoughts turned to his mother and sister. He could not leavethe house without bidding them good-bye. He determined to see hismother, for his father had left the Hall upon a visit. 

Mrs. Bradley and Emma were alone when he entered their apartment, and tothem he related all that had passed between himself and father. 

They besought him to stay, to remain there, or at least in theneighbourhood; but he was resolved to quit the place altogether for atime, as he could do nothing there, and he might chance to do somethingelsewhere. 

Upon this, they got together all the money and such jewels as they couldspare, which in all amounted to a considerable sum; then taking anaffectionate leave of his mother and sister, Henry left the Hall--notbefore he had taken a long and affectionate farewell of one other wholived within those walls. 

This was no other than the raven-eyed maiden who sat by the fire side, and listened attentively to the conversation that was going on. She washis love--she, a poor cousin. For her sake he had braved all hisfather's anger, and attempted to seek his fortune abroad. 

This done, he quietly left the Hall, without giving any one anyintimation of where he was going. 

Old Mr. Bradley, when he had said so much to his son, was highlyincensed at what he deemed his obstinacy; and he thought the threathanging over him would have had a good effect; but he was amazed when hediscovered that Henry had indeed left the Hall, and he knew not whither. 

For some time he comforted himself with the assurance that he would, hemust return, but, alas! he came not, and this was the second anniversaryof that melancholy day, which no one more repented of and grieved for, than did poor Mr. Bradley. 

"Surely, surely he will return, or let us know where he is, " he said;"he cannot be in need, else he would have written to us for aid. "

"No, no, " said Mrs. Bradley; "it is, I fear, because he has not written, that he is in want; he would never write if he was in poverty, lest heshould cause us unhappiness at his fate. Were he doing well, we shouldhear of it, for he would be proud of the result of his own unaidedexertions. "

"Well, well, " said Mr. Bradley, "I can say no more; if I was hasty, sowas he; but it is passed. I would forgive all the past, if I could butsee him once again--once again!"

"How the wind howls, " added the aged man; "and it's getting worse andworse. "

"Yes, and the snow is coming down now in style, " said one of theservants, who brought in some fresh logs which were piled up on thefire, and he shook the white flakes off his clothes. 

"It will be a heavy fall before morning, " said one of the men. 

"Yes, it has been gathering for some days; it will be much warmer thanit has been when it is all down. "

"So it will--so it will. "

At that moment there was a knocking at the gate, and the dogs burst intoa dreadful uproar from their kennels. 

"Go, Robert, " said Mr. Bradley, "and see who it is that knocks such anight as this; it is not fit or safe that a dog should be out in it. "

The man went out, and shortly returned, saying, --

"So please you, sir, there is a traveller that has missed his way, anddesires to know if he can obtain shelter here, or if any one can befound to guide him to the nearest inn. "

"Bid him come in; we shall lose no warmth because there is one morebefore the fire. "

The stranger entered, and said, --"I have missed my way, and the snowcomes down so thick and fast, and is whirled in such eddies, that Ifear, by myself, I should fall into some drift, and perish beforemorning. "

"Do not speak of it, sir, " said Mr. Bradley; "such a night as this is asufficient apology for the request you make, and an inducement to me togrant it most willingly. "

"Thanks, " replied the stranger; "the welcome is most seasonable. "

"Be seated, sir; take your seat by the ingle; it is warm. "

The stranger seated himself, and seemed lost in reflection, as he gazedintently on the blazing logs. He was a robust man, with great whiskersand beard, and, to judge from his outward habiliments, he was a stoutman. 

"Have you travelled far?"

"I have, sir. "

"You appear to belong to the army, if I mistake not?"

"I do, sir. "

There was a pause; the stranger seemed not inclined to speak of himselfmuch; but Mr. Bradley continued, --

"Have you come from foreign service, sir? I presume you have. "

"Yes; I have not been in this country more than six days. "

"Indeed; shall we have peace think you?"

"I do so, and I hope it may be so, for the sake of many who desire toreturn to their native land, and to those they love best. "

Mr. Bradley heaved a deep sigh, which was echoed softly by all present, and the stranger looked from one to another, with a hasty glance, andthen turned his gaze upon the fire. 

"May I ask, sir, if you have any person whom you regard in the army--anyrelative?"

"Alas! I have--perhaps, I ought to say I had a son. I know not, however, where he is gone. "

"Oh! a runaway; I see. "

"Oh, no; he left because there were some family differences, and now, Iwould, that he were once more here. "

"Oh!" said the stranger, softly, "differences and mistakes will happennow and then, when least desired. "

At this moment, an old hound who had lain beside Ellen Mowbray, she whowore the coal-black tresses, lifted his head at the difference in soundthat was noticed in the stranger's voice. He got up and slowly walked upto him, and began to smell around him, and, in another moment, he rushedat him with a cry of joy, and began to lick and caress him in the mostextravagant manner. This was followed by a cry of joy in all present. 

"It is Henry!" exclaimed Ellen Mowbray, rising and rushing into hisarms. 

It was Henry, and he threw off the several coats he had on, as well asthe large beard he wore to disguise himself. 

The meeting was a happy one; there was not a more joyful house than thatwithin many miles around. Henry was restored to the arms of those wholoved him, and, in a month, a wedding was celebrated between him and hiscousin Ellen. 

 * * * * *

Sir Francis Varney glanced at his watch. It indicated but five minutesto twelve o'clock, and he sprang to his feet. Even as he did so, a loudknocking at the principal entrance to his house awakened every echowithin its walls. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE THOUSAND POUNDS. --THE STRANGER'S PRECAUTIONS. 

[Illustration]

Varney moved not now, nor did he speak, but, like a statue, he stood, with his unearthly looking eyes rivetted upon the door of the apartment. 

In a few moments one of his servants came, and said--

"Sir, a person is here, who says he wants to see you. He desired me tosay, that he had ridden far, and that moments were precious when thetide of life was ebbing fast. "

"Yes! yes!" gasped Varney; "admit him, I know him! Bring him here? Itis--an--old friend--of mine. "

He sank into a chair, and still he kept his eyes fixed upon that doorthrough which his visitor must come. Surely some secret of dreadfulmoment must be connected with him whom Sir Francisexpected--dreaded--andyet dared not refuse to see. And now a footstep approaches--a slow and asolemn footstep--it pauses a moment at the door of the apartment, andthen the servant flings it open, and a tall man enters. He is envelopedin the folds of a horseman's cloak, and there is the clank of spurs uponhis heels as he walks into the room. 

Varney rose again, but he said not a word and for a few moments theystood opposite each other in silence. The domestic has left the room, and the door is closed, so that there was nothing to prevent them fromconversing; and, yet, silent they continued for some minutes. It seemedas if each was most anxious that the other should commence theconversation, first. 

And yet there was nothing so very remarkable in the appearance of thatstranger which should entirely justify Sir Francis Varney, in feeling somuch alarm at his presence. He certainly was a man past the prime oflife; and he looked like one who had battled much with misfortune, andas if time had not passed so lightly over his brow, but that it had leftdeep traces of its progress. The only thing positively bad about hiscountenance, was to be found in his eyes. There there was a mostungracious and sinister expression, a kind of lurking and suspicionslook, as if he were always resolving in his mind some deep laid scheme, which might be sufficient to circumvent the whole of mankind. 

Finding, probably, that Varney would not speak first, he let his cloakfall more loosely about him, and in a low, deep tone, he said, "I presume I was expected?"

"You were, " said Varney. "It is the day, and it is the hour. "

"You are right. I like to see you so mindful. You don't improve in lookssince--"

"Hush--hush! no more of that; can we not meet without a dreadfulallusion to the past! There needs nothing to remind me of it; and yourpresence here now shows that you are not forgetful. Speak not of thatfearful episode. Let no words combine to place it in a tangible shape tohuman understanding. I cannot, dare not, hear you speak of that. "

"It is well, " said the stranger; "as you please. Let our interview bebrief. You know my errand?"

"I do. So fearful a drag upon limited means, is not likely to be readilyforgotten. "

"Oh, you are too ingenious--too full of well laid schemes, and to aptand ready in their execution, to feel, as any fearful drag, theconditions of our bargain. Why do you look at me so earnestly?"

"Because, " said Varney--and he trembled as he spoke--"because eachlineament of your countenance brings me back to the recollection of theonly scene in life that made me shudder, and which I cannot think of, even with the indifference of contempt. I see it all before my mind'seye, coming in frightful panoramic array, those incidents, which even todream of, are sufficient to drive the soul to madness; the dread of thisannual visit, hangs upon me like a dark cloud upon my very heart; itsits like some foul incubus, destroying its vitality and dragging me, from day to day, nearer to that tomb, from whence not as before, I canemerge. "

"You have been among the dead?" said the stranger. 

"I have. "

"And yet are mortal. "

"Yes, " repeated Varney, "yes, and yet am mortal. "

"It was I that plucked you back to that world, which, to judge from yourappearance, has had since that eventful period but few charms for you. By my faith you look like--"

"Like what I am, " interrupted Varney. 

"This is a subject that once a year gets frightfully renewed between us. For weeks before your visit I am haunted by frightful recollections, andit takes me many weeks after you are gone, before I can restore myselfto serenity. Look at me; am I not an altered man?"

"In faith you are, " said the stranger "I have no wish to press upon youpainful recollections. And yet 'tis strange to me that upon such a manas you, the event to which you allude should produce so terrible animpression. "

"I have passed through the agony of death, " said Varney, "and have againendured the torture--for it is such--of the re-union of the body and thesoul; not having endured so much, not the faintest echo of such feelingscan enter into your imagination. "

"There may be truth in that, and yet, like a fluttering moth round aflame, it seems to me, that when I do see you, you take a terrific kindof satisfaction in talking of the past. "

"That is strictly true, " said Varney; "the images with which my mind isfilled are frightful. Pent up do they remain for twelve long months. Ican speak to you, and you only, without disguise, and thus does it seemto me that I get rid of the uneasy load of horrible imaginings. When youare gone, and have been gone a sufficient lapse of time, my slumbers arenot haunted with frightful images--I regain a comparative peace, untilthe time slowly comes around again, when we are doomed to meet. "

"I understand you. You seem well lodged here?"

"I have ever kept my word, and sent to you, telling you where I am. "

"You have, truly. I have no shadow of complaint to make against you. Noone, could have more faithfully performed his bond than you have. I giveyou ample credit for all that, and long may you live still to performyour conditions. "

"I dare not deceive you, although to keep such faith I may be compelledto deceive a hundred others. "

"Of that I cannot judge. Fortune seems to smile upon you; you have notas yet disappointed me. "

"And will not now, " said Varney. "The gigantic and frightful penalty ofdisappointing you, stares me in the face. I dare not do so. "

He took from his pocket, as he spoke, a clasped book, from which heproduced several bank notes, which he placed before the stranger. 

"A thousand pounds, " he said; "that is the agreement. "

"It is to the very letter. I do not return to you a thousand thanks--weunderstand each other better than to waste time with idle compliment. Indeed I will go quite as far as to say, truthfully, that did not mynecessities require this amount from you, you should have the boon, forwhich you pay that price at a much cheaper rate. "

"Enough! enough!" said Varney. "It is strange, that your face shouldhave been the last I saw, when the world closed upon me, and the firstthat met my eyes when I was again snatched back to life! Do you pursuestill your dreadful trade?"

"Yes, " said the stranger, "for another year, and then, with such amoderate competence as fortune has assigned me, I retire, to make wayfor younger and abler spirits. "

"And then, " said Varney, "shall you still require of me such an amountas this?"

"No; this is my last visit but one. I shall be just and liberal towardsyou. You are not old; and I have no wish to become the clog of yourexistence. As I have before told you, it is my necessity, and not myinclination, that sets the value upon the service I rendered you. "

"I understand you, and ought to thank you. And in reply to so muchcourtesy, be assured, that when I shudder at your presence, it is notthat I regard you with horror, as an individual, but it is because thesight of you awakens mournfully the remembrance of the past. "

"It is clear to me, " said the stranger; "and now I think we part witheach other in a better spirit than we ever did before; and when we meetagain, the remembrance that it is the last time, will clear away thegloom that I now find hanging over you. "

"It may! it may! With what an earnest gaze you still regard me!"

"I do. It does appear to me most strange, that time should not haveobliterated the effects which I thought would have ceased with theircause. You are no more the man that in my recollection you once were, than I am like a sporting child. "

"And I never shall be, " said Varney; "never--never again! This self-samelook which the hand of death had placed upon me, I shall ever wear. Ishudder at myself, and as I oft perceive the eye of idle curiosity fixedsteadfastly upon me, I wonder in my inmost heart, if even the wildestguesser hits upon the cause why I am not like unto other men?"

"No. Of that you may depend there is no suspicion; but I will leave younow; we part such friends, as men situated as we are can be. Once againshall we meet, and then farewell for ever. "

"Do you leave England, then?"

"I do. You know my situation in life. It is not one which offers meinducements to remain. In some other land, I shall win the respect andattention I may not hope for here. There my wealth will win many goldenopinions; and casting, as best I may, the veil of forgetfulness over myformer life, my declining years may yet be happy. This money, that Ihave had of you from time to time, has been more pleasantly earned thanall beside. Wrung, as it has been, from your fears, still have I takenit with less reproach. And now, farewell!"

Varney rang for a servant to show the stranger from the house, andwithout another word they parted. 

Then, when he was alone, that mysterious owner of that costly home drewa long breath of apparently exquisite relief. 

"That is over!--that is over!" he said. "He shall have the otherthousand pounds, perchance, sooner than he thinks. With all expedition Iwill send it to him. And then on that subject I shall be at peace. Ishall have paid a large sum; but that which I purchased was to mepriceless. It was my life!--it was my life itself! That possession whichthe world's wealth cannot restore! And shall I grudge these thousands, which have found their way into this man's hands? No! 'Tis true, thatexistence, for me, has lost some of its most resplendent charms. 'Tistrue, that I have no earthly affections, and that shunning companionshipwith all, I am alike shunned by all; and yet, while the life-blood stillwill circulate within my shrunken veins, I cling to vitality. "

He passed into an inner room, and taking from a hook, on which it hung, a long, dark-coloured cloak, he enveloped his tall, unearthly figurewithin its folds. 

Then, with his hat in his hand, he passed out of his house, and appearedto be taking his way towards Bannerworth House. 

Surely it must be guilt of no common die that could oppress a man sodestitute of human sympathies as Sir Francis Varney. The dreadfulsuspicions that hovered round him with respect to what he was, appearedto gather confirmation from every act of his existence. 

Whether or not this man, to whom he felt bound to pay annually so largea sum, was in the secret, and knew him to be something more thanearthly, we cannot at present declare; but it would seem from the tenorof their conversation as if such were the fact. 

Perchance he had saved him from the corruption of the tomb, by placingout, on some sylvan spot, where the cold moonbeams fell, the apparentlylifeless form, and now claimed so large a reward for such a service, andthe necessary secrecy contingent upon it. 

We say this may be so, and yet again some more natural and rationalexplanation may unexpectedly present itself; and there may be yet a darkpage in Sir Francis Varney's life's volume, which will place him in alight of superadded terrors to our readers. 

Time, and the now rapidly accumulating incidents of our tale, will soontear aside the veil of mystery that now envelopes some of our _dramatispersonae_. 

And let us hope that in the development of those incidents we shall beenabled to rescue the beautiful Flora Bannerworth from the despairinggloom that is around her. Let us hope and even anticipate that we shallsee her smile again; that the roseate hue of health will again revisither cheeks, the light buoyancy of her step return, and that as beforeshe may be the joy of all around her, dispensing and receivinghappiness. 

And, he too, that gallant fearless lover, he whom no chance of time ortide could sever from the object of his fond affections, he who listenedto nothing but the dictates of his heart's best feelings, let us indulgea hope that he will have a bright reward, and that the sunshine of apermanent felicity will only seem the brighter for the shadows that fora time have obscured its glory. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

THE STRANGE INTERVIEW. --THE CHASE THROUGH THE HALL. 

[Illustration]

It was with the most melancholy aspect that anything human could wellbear, that Sir Francis Varney took his lonely walk, although perhaps insaying so much, probably we are instituting a comparison whichcircumstances scarcely empower us to do; for who shall say that thatsingular man, around whom a very atmosphere of mystery seemed to beperpetually increasing, was human?

Averse as we are to believe in the supernatural, or even to investhumanity with any preternatural powers, the more than singular facts andcircumstances surrounding the existence and the acts of that man bringto the mind a kind of shuddering conviction, that if he be indeed reallymortal he still must possess some powers beyond ordinary mortality, andbe walking the earth for some unhallowed purposes, such as ordinary menwith the ordinary attributes of human nature can scarcely guess at. 

Silently and alone he took his way through that beautiful tract ofcountry, comprehending such picturesque charms of hill and dale whichlay between his home and Bannerworth Hall. He was evidently intent uponreaching the latter place by the shortest possible route, and in thedarkness of that night, for the moon had not yet risen, he showed noslight acquaintance with the intricacies of that locality, that he wasat all enabled to pursue so undeviatingly a tract as that which he took. 

He muttered frequently to himself low, indistinct words as he went, andchiefly did they seem to have reference to that strange interview he hadso recently had with one who, from some combination of circumstancesscarcely to be guessed at, evidently exercised a powerful control overhim, and was enabled to make a demand upon his pecuniary resources ofrather startling magnitude. 

And yet, from a stray word or two, which were pronounced moredistinctly, he did not seem to be thinking in anger over that interview;but it would appear that it rather had recalled to his remembrancecircumstances of a painful and a degrading nature, which time had notbeen able entirely to obliterate from his recollection. 

"Yes, yes, " he said, as he paused upon the margin of the wood, to theconfines of which he, or what seemed to be he, had once been chased byMarchdale and the Bannerworths--"yes, the very sight of that man recallsall the frightful pageantry of a horrible tragedy, which I cannever--never forget. Never can it escape my memory, as a horrible, aterrific fact; but it is the sight of this man alone that can recall allits fearful minutiae to my mind, and paint to my imagination, in themost vivid colours, every, the least particular connected with that timeof agony. These periodical visits much affect me. For months I dreadthem, and for months I am but slowly recovering from the shocks theygive me. 'But once more, ' he says--'but once more, ' and then we shallnot meet again. Well, well; perchance before that time arrives, I may beable to possess myself of those resources which will enable me toforestall his visit, and so at least free myself from the pang ofexpecting him. "

He paused at the margin of the wood, and glanced in the direction ofBannerworth Hall. By the dim light which yet showed from out the lightsky, he could discern the ancient gable ends, and turret-like windows;he could see the well laid out gardens, and the grove of stately firsthat shaded it from the northern blasts, and, as he gazed, a strongemotion seemed to come over him, such as no one could have supposedwould for one moment have possessed the frame of one so apparentlyunconnected with all human sympathies. 

"I know this spot well, " he said, "and my appearance here on thateventful occasion, when the dread of my approach induced a crime onlysecond to murder itself, was on such a night as this, when all was sostill and calm around, and when he who, at the merest shadow of mypresence, rather chose to rush on death than be assured it was myself. Curses on the circumstances that so foiled me! I should have been mostwealthy. I should have possessed the means of commanding the adulationof those who now hold me but cheaply; but still the time may come. Ihave a hope yet, and that greatness which I have ever panted for, thatmagician-like power over my kind, which the possession of ample meansalone can give, may yet be mine. "

Wrapping his cloak more closely around him, he strode forward with thatlong, noiseless step which was peculiar to him. Mechanically he appearedto avoid those obstacles of hedge and ditch which impeded his pathway. Surely be had come that road often, or he would not so easily havepursued his way. And now he stood by the edge of a plantation which insome measure protected from trespassers the more private gardens of theHall, and there he paused, as if a feeling of irresolution had come overhim, or it might be, as indeed it seemed from his subsequent conduct, that he had come without any fixed intention, or if with a fixedintention, without any regular plan of carrying it into effect. 

Did he again dream of intruding into any of the chambers of thatmansion, with the ghastly aspect of that terrible creation with which, in the minds of its inhabitants, he seemed to be but too closelyidentified? He was pale, attenuated, and trembled. Could it be that sosoon it had become necessary to renew the life-blood in his veins in theawful manner which it is supposed the vampyre brood are compelled toprotract their miserable existence?

It might be so, and that he was even now reflecting upon how once morehe could kindle the fire of madness in the brain of that beautiful girl, who he had already made so irretrievably wretched. 

He leant against an aged tree, and his strange, lustrous-looking eyesseemed to collect every wandering scintillation of light that wasaround, and to shine with preternatural intensity. 

"I must, I will, " he said, "be master of Bannerworth Hall. It must cometo that. I have set an existence upon its possession, and I will haveit; and then, if with my own hands I displace it brick by brick andstone by stone, I will discover that hidden secret which no one butmyself now dreams of. It shall be done by force or fraud, by love or bydespair, I care not which; the end shall sanctify all means. Ay, even ifI wade through blood to my desire, I say it shall be done. "

There was a holy and a still calmness about the night much at variancewith the storm of angry passion that appeared to be momentarilygathering power in the breast of that fearful man. Not the least soundcame from Bannerworth Hall, and it was only occasionally that from afaroff on the night air there came the bark of some watchdog, or the low ofdistant cattle. All else was mute save when the deep sepulchral tones ofthat man, if man he was, gave an impulse to the soft air around him. 

With a strolling movement as if he were careless if he proceeded in thatdirection or not, he still went onward toward the house, and now hestood by that little summer-house once so sweet and so dear a retreat, in which the heart-stricken Flora had held her interview with him whomshe loved with a devotion unknown to meaner minds. 

This spot scarcely commanded any view of the house, for so enclosed wasit among evergreens and blooming flowers, that it seemed like a verywilderness of nature, upon which, with liberal hand, she had showereddown in wild luxuriance her wildest floral beauties. 

In and around that spot the night air was loaded with sweets. Themingled perfume of many flowers made that place seem a very paradise. But oh, how sadly at variance with that beauty and contentedness ofnature was he who stood amidst such beauty! All incapable as he was ofappreciating its tenderness, or of gathering the faintest moral from itsglory. 

"Why am I here?" he said. "Here, without fixed design or stability ofpurpose, like some miser who has hidden his own hoards so deeply withinthe bowels of the earth he cannot hope that he shall ever again be ableto bring them to the light of day. I hover around this spot which Ifeel--which I know--contains my treasure, though I cannot lay my handsupon it, or exult in its glistening beauty. "

Even as he spoke he cowered down like some guilty thing, for he heard afaint footstep upon the garden path. So light, so fragile was the step, that, in the light of day, the very hum of summer insects would havedrowned the noise; but he heard it, that man of crime--of unholy andawful impulses. He heard it, and he shrunk down among the shrubs andflowers till he was hidden completely from observation amid a world offragrant essences. 

Was it some one stealthily in that place even as he was, unwelcome orunknown? or was it one who had observed him intrude upon the privacy ofthose now unhappy precincts, and who was coming to deal upon him thatdeath which, vampyre though he might be, he was yet susceptible of frommortal hands?

The footstep advanced, and lower down he shrunk until his coward-heartbeat against the very earth itself. He knew that he was unarmed, acircumstance rare with him, and only to be accounted for by thedisturbance of his mind consequent upon the visit of that strange man tohis house, whose presence had awakened so many conflicting emotions. 

Nearer and nearer still came that light footstep, and his deep-seatedfears would not let him perceive that it was not the step of caution orof treachery, but owed its lightness to the natural grace and freedom ofmovement of its owner. 

The moon must have arisen, although obscured by clouds, through which itcast but a dim radiance, for the night had certainly grown lighter; sothat although there were no strong shadows cast, a more diffusedbrightness was about all things, and their outlines looked not sodancing, and confused the one with the other. 

He strained his eyes in the direction whence the sounds proceeded, andthen his fears for his personal safety vanished, for he saw it was afemale form that was slowly advancing towards him. 

His first impulse was to rise, for with the transient glimpse he got ofit, he knew that it must be Flora Bannerworth; but a second thought, probably one of intense curiosity to know what could possibly havebrought her to such a spot at such a time, restrained him, and he wasquiet. But if the surprise of Sir Francis Varney was great to see FloraBannerworth at such a time in such a place, we have no doubt, that withthe knowledge which our readers have of her, their astonishment wouldmore than fully equal his; and when we come to consider, that since thateventful period when the sanctity of her chamber had been so violated bythat fearful midnight visitant, it must appear somewhat strange that shecould gather courage sufficient to wander forth alone at such an hour. 

Had she no dread of meeting that unearthly being? Did the possibilitythat she might fall into his ruthless grasp, not come across her mindwith a shuddering consciousness of its probability? Had she noreflection that each step she took, was taking her further and furtherfrom those who would aid her in all extremities? It would seem not, forshe walked onward, unheeding, and apparently unthinking of the presence, possible or probable, of that bane of her existence. 

But let us look at her again. How strange and spectral-like she movesalong; there seems no speculation in her countenance, but with a strangeand gliding step, she walks like some dim shadow of the past in thatancient garden. She is very pale, and on her brow there is the stamp ofsuffering; her dress is a morning robe, she holds it lightly round her, and thus she moves forward towards that summer-house which probably toher was sanctified by having witnessed those vows of pure affection, which came from the lips of Charles Holland, about whose fate there nowhung so great a mystery. 

Has madness really seized upon the brain of that beautiful girl? Has thestrong intellect really sunk beneath the oppressions to which it hasbeen subjected? Does she now walk forth with a disordered intellect, thequeen of some fantastic realm, viewing the material world with eyes thatare not of earth; shunning perhaps that which she should have sought, and, perchance, in her frenzy, seeking that which in a happier frame ofmind she would have shunned. 

[Illustration]

Such might have been the impression of any one who had looked upon herfor a moment, and who knew the disastrous scenes through which she hadso recently passed; but we can spare our readers the pangs of such asupposition. We have bespoken their love for Flora Bannerworth, and weare certain that she has it; therefore would we spare them, even for afew brief moments, from imagining that cruel destiny had done its worst, and that the fine and beautiful spirit we have so much commended hadlost its power of rational reflection. No; thank Heaven, such is not thecase. Flora Bannerworth is not mad, but under the strong influence ofsome eccentric dream, which has pictured to her mind images which haveno home but in the airy realms of imagination. She has wandered forthfrom her chamber to that sacred spot where she had met him she loved, and heard the noblest declaration of truth and constancy that everflowed from human lips. 

Yes, she is sleeping; but, with a precision such as the somnambulist sostrangely exerts, she trod the well-known paths slowly, but surely, toward that summer's bower, where her dreams had not told her laycrouching that most hideous spectre of her imagination, Sir FrancisVarney. He who stood between her and her heart's best joy; he who haddestroyed all hope of happiness, and who had converted her dearestaffections into only so many causes of greater disquietude than theblessings they should have been to her. 

Oh! could she have imagined but for one moment that he was there, withwhat an eagerness of terror would she have flown back again to theshelter of those walls, where at least was to be found some protectionfrom the fearful vampyre's embrace, and where she would be within hailof friendly hearts, who would stand boldly between her and every thoughtof harm. 

But she knew it not, and onwards she went until the very hem of hergarment touched the face of Sir Francis Varney. 

And he was terrified--he dared not move--he dared not speak! The ideathat she had died, and that this was her spirit, come to wreak someterrible vengeance upon him, for a time possessed him, and so paralysedwith fear was he, that he could neither move nor speak. 

It had been well if, during that trance of indecision in which hiscoward heart placed him, Flora had left the place, and again sought herhome; but unhappily such an impulse came not over her; she sat upon thatrustic seat, where she had reposed when Charles had clasped her to hisheart, and through her very dream the remembrance of that pure affectioncame across her, and in the tenderest and most melodious accents, shesaid, --

"Charles! Charles! and do you love me still? No--no; you have notforsaken me. Save me, save me from the vampyre!"

She shuddered, and Sir Francis Varney heard her weeping. 

"Fool that I am, " he muttered, "to be so terrified. She sleeps. This isone of the phases which a disordered imagination oft puts on. Shesleeps, and perchance this may be an opportunity of further increasingthe dread of my visitation, which shall make Bannerworth Hall far tooterrible a dwelling-place for her; and well I know, if she goes, theywill all go. It will become a deserted house, and that is what I want. Ahouse, too, with such an evil reputation, that none but myself, who havecreated that reputation, will venture within its walls:--a house, whichsuperstition will point out as the abode of evil spirits;--a house, asit were, by general opinion, ceded to the vampyre. Yes, it shall be myown; fit dwelling-place for a while for me. I have sworn it shall bemine, and I will keep my oath, little such as I have to do with vows. "

He rose, and moved slowly to the narrow entrance of the summer-house; amovement he could make, without at all disturbing Flora, for the rusticseat, on which she sat, was at its further extremity. And there hestood, the upper part of his gaunt and hideous form clearly defined uponthe now much lighter sky, so that if Flora Bannerworth had not been inthat trance of sleep in which she really was, one glance upward wouldlet her see the hideous companion she had, in that once much-lovedspot--a spot hitherto sacred to the best and noblest feelings, but nowdoomed for ever to be associated with that terrific spectre of despair. 

But she was in no state to see so terrible a sight. Her hands were overher face, and she was weeping still. 

"Surely, he loves me, " she whispered; "he has said he loved me, and hedoes not speak in vain. He loves me still, and I shall again look uponhis face, a Heaven to me! Charles! Charles! you will come again? Surely, they sin against the divinity of love, who would tell me that you loveme not!"

"Ha!" muttered Varney, "this passion is her first, and takes a stronghold on her young heart--she loves him--but what are human affections tome? I have no right to count myself in the great muster-roll ofhumanity. I look not like an inhabitant of the earth, and yet am on it. I love no one, expect no love from any one, but I will make humanity aslave to me; and the lip-service of them who hate me in their hearts, shall be as pleasant jingling music to my ear, as if it were quitesincere! I will speak to this girl; she is not mad--perchance she maybe. "

There was a diabolical look of concentrated hatred upon Varney's face, as he now advanced two paces towards the beautiful Flora. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

THE THREAT. --ITS CONSEQUENCES. --THE RESCUE, AND SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'SDANGER. 

[Illustration]

Sir Francis Varney now paused again, and he seemed for a few moments togloat over the helpless condition of her whom he had so determined tomake his victim; there was no look of pity in his face, no one touch ofhuman kindness could be found in the whole expression of thosediabolical features; and if he delayed making the attempt to striketerror into the heart of that unhappy, but beautiful being, it could notbe from any relenting feeling, but simply, that he wished for a fewmoments to indulge his imagination with the idea of perfecting hisvillany more effectually. 

Alas! and they who would have flown to her rescue, --they, who for herwould have chanced all accidents, ay, even life itself, were sleeping, and knew not of the loved one's danger. She was alone, and far enoughfrom the house, to be driven to that tottering verge where sanity ends, and the dream of madness, with all its terrors, commences. 

But still she slept--if that half-waking sleep could indeed beconsidered as any thing akin to ordinary slumber--still she slept, andcalled mournfully upon her lover's name; and in tender, beseechingaccents, that should have melted even the stubbornest hearts, did sheexpress her soul's conviction that he loved her still. 

The very repetition of the name of Charles Holland seemed to be gallingto Sir Francis Varney. He made a gesture of impatience, as she againuttered it, and then, stepping forward, he stood within a pace of whereshe sat, and in a fearfully distinct voice he said, --

"Flora Bannerworth, awake! awake! and look upon me, although the sightblast and drive you to despair. Awake! awake!"

It was not the sound of the voice which aroused her from that strangeslumber. It is said that those who sleep in that eccentric manner, areinsensible to sounds, but that the lightest touch will arouse them in aninstant; and so it was in this case, for Sir Francis Varney, as hespoke, laid upon the hand of Flora two of his cold, corpse-like lookingfingers. A shriek burst from her lips, and although the confusion of hermemory and conceptions was immense, yet she was awake, and thesomnambulistic trance had left her. 

"Help, help!" she cried. "Gracious Heavens! Where am I?"

Varney spoke not, but he spread out his long, thin arms in such a mannerthat he seemed almost to encircle her, while he touched her not, so thatescape became a matter of impossibility, and to attempt to do so, musthave been to have thrown herself into his hideous embrace. 

She could obtain but a single view of the face and figure of him whoopposed her progress, but, slight as that view was, it more thansufficed. The very extremity of fear came across her, and she sat likeone paralysed; the only evidence of existence she gave consisting in thewords, --

"The vampyre--the vampyre!"

"Yes, " said Varney, "the vampyre. You know me, FloraBannerworth--Varney, the vampyre; your midnight guest at that feast ofblood. I am the vampyre. Look upon me well; shrink not from my gaze. Youwill do well not to shun me, but to speak to me in such a shape that Imay learn to love you. "

Flora shook as in a convulsion, and she looked as white as any marblestatue. 

"This is horrible!" she said. "Why does not Heaven grant me the death Ipray for?"

"Hold!" said Varney. "Dress not up in the false colours of theimagination that which in itself is sufficiently terrific to need noneof the allurements of romance. Flora Bannerworth, you arepersecuted--persecuted by me, the vampyre. It is my fate to persecuteyou; for there are laws to the invisible as well as the visible creationthat force even such a being as I am to play my part in the great dramaof existence. I am a vampyre; the sustenance that supports this framemust be drawn from the life-blood of others. "

"Oh, horror--horror!"

"But most I do affect the young and beautiful. It is from the veins ofsuch as thou art, Flora Bannerworth, that I would seek the sustenanceI'm compelled to obtain for my own exhausted energies. But never yet, inall my long career--a career extending over centuries of time--never yethave I felt the soft sensation of human pity till I looked on thee, exquisite piece of excellence. Even at the moment when the revivingfluid from the gushing fountain of your veins was warming at my heart, Ipitied and I loved you. Oh, Flora! even I can now feel the pang of beingwhat I am!"

There was a something in the tone, a touch of sadness in the manner, anda deep sincerity in these words, that in some measure disabused Flora ofher fears. She sobbed hysterically, and a gush of tears came to herrelief, as, in almost inarticulate accents, she said, --

"May the great God forgive even you!"

"I have need of such a prayer, " exclaimed Varney--"Heaven knows I haveneed of such a prayer. May it ascend on the wings of the night air tothe throne of Heaven. May it be softly whispered by ministering angelsto the ear of Divinity. God knows I have need of such a prayer!"

"To hear you speak in such a strain, " said Flora, "calms the excitedfancy, and strips even your horrible presence of some of its maddeninginfluence. "

"Hush, " said the vampire, "you must hear more--you must know more ereyou speak of the matters that have of late exercised an influence ofterror over you. "

"But how came I here?" said Flora, "tell me that. By what more thanearthly power have you brought me to this spot? If I am to listen toyou, why should it not be at some more likely time and place?"

"I have powers, " said Varney, assuming from Flora's words, that shewould believe such arrogance--"I have powers which suffice to bend manypurposes to my will--powers incidental to my position, and therefore isit I have brought you here to listen to that which should make youhappier than you are. "

"I will attend, " said Flora. "I do not shudder now; there's an icycoldness through my veins, but it is the night air--speak, I will attendyou. "

"I will. Flora Bannerworth, I am one who has witnessed time's mutationson man and on his works, and I have pitied neither; I have seen the fallof empires, and sighed not that high reaching ambition was toppled tothe dust. I have seen the grave close over the young and thebeautiful--those whom I have doomed by my insatiable thirst for humanblood to death, long ere the usual span of life was past, but I neverloved till now. "

"Can such a being as you, " said Flora "be susceptible of such an earthlypassion?"

"And wherefore not?"

"Love is either too much of heaven, or too much of earth to find a homewith thee. "

"No, Flora, no! it may be that the feeling is born of pity. I will saveyou--I will save you from a continuance of the horrors that areassailing you. "

"Oh! then may Heaven have mercy in your hour of need!"

"Amen!"

"May you even yet know peace and joy above. "

"It is a faint and straggling hope--but if achieved, it will be throughthe interposition of such a spirit as thine, Flora, which has alreadyexercised so benign an influence upon my tortured soul, as to producethe wish within my heart, to do a least one unselfish action. "

"That wish, " said Flora, "shall be father to the deed. Heaven hasboundless mercy yet. "

"For thy sweet sake, I will believe so much, Flora Bannerworth; it is acondition with my hateful race, that if we can find one human heart tolove us, we are free. If, in the face of Heaven, you will consent to bemine, you will snatch me from a continuance of my frightful doom, andfor your pure sake, and on your merits, shall I yet know heavenlyhappiness. Will you be mine?"

A cloud swept from off the face of the moon, and a slant ray fell uponthe hideous features of the vampire. He looked as if just rescued fromsome charnel-house, and endowed for a space with vitality to destroy allbeauty and harmony in nature, and drive some benighted soul to madness. 

"No, no, no!" shrieked Flora, "never!"

"Enough, " said Varney, "I am answered. It was a bad proposal. I am avampyre still. "

"Spare me! spare me!"

"Blood!"

Flora sank upon her knees, and uplifted her hands to heaven. "Mercy, mercy!" she said. 

"Blood!" said Varney, and she saw his hideous, fang-like teeth. "Blood!Flora Bannerworth, the vampyre's motto. I have asked you to love me, andyou will not--the penalty be yours. "

"No, no!" said Flora. "Can it be possible that even you, who havealready spoken with judgment and precision, can be so unjust? you mustfeel that, in all respects, I have been a victim, most gratuitously--asufferer, while there existed no just cause that I should suffer; onewho has been tortured, not from personal fault, selfishness, lapse ofintegrity, or honourable feelings, but because you have found itnecessary, for the prolongation of your terrific existence, to attack meas you have done. By what plea of honour, honesty, or justice, can I beblamed for not embracing an alternative which is beyond all humancontrol?--I cannot love you. "

"Then be content to suffer. Flora Bannerworth, will you not, even for atime, to save yourself and to save me, become mine?"

"Horrible proposition!"

"Then am I doomed yet, perhaps, for many a cycle of years, to spreadmisery and desolation around me; and yet I love you with a feeling whichhas in it more of gratefulness and unselfishness than ever yet found ahome within my breast. I would fain have you, although you cannot saveme; there may yet be a chance, which shall enable you to escape from thepersecution of my presence. "

"Oh! glorious chance!" said Flora. "Which way can it come? tell me how Imay embrace it, and such grateful feelings as a heart-stricken mournercan offer to him who has rescued her from her deep affliction, shall yetbe yours. "

"Hear me, then, Flora Bannerworth, while I state to you some particularsof mysterious existence, of such beings as myself, which never yet havebeen breathed to mortal ears. "

Flora looked intently at him, and listened, while, with a seriousearnestness of manner, he detailed to her something of the physiology ofthe singular class of beings which the concurrence of all circumstancestended to make him appear. 

"Flora, " he said, "it is not that I am so enamoured of an existence tobe prolonged only by such frightful means, which induces me to become aterror to you or to others. Believe me, that if my victims, those whommy insatiable thirst for blood make wretched, suffer much, I, thevampyre, am not without my moments of unutterable agony. But it is amysterious law of our nature, that as the period approaches when theexhausted energies of life require a new support from the warm, gushingfountain of another's veins, the strong desire to live grows upon us, until, in a paroxysm of wild insanity, which will recognise noobstacles, human or divine, we seek a victim. "

"A fearful state!" said Flora. 

"It is so; and, when the dreadful repast is over, then again the pulsebeats healthfully, and the wasted energies of a strange kind of vitalityare restored to us, we become calm again, but with that calmness comesall the horror, all the agony of reflection, and we suffer far more thantongue can tell. "

"You have my pity, " said Flora; "even you have my pity. "

"I might well demand it, if such a feeling held a place within yourbreast. I might well demand your pity, Flora Bannerworth, for nevercrawled an abject wretch upon the earth's rotundity, so pitiable as I. "

"Go on, go on. "

"I will, and with such brief conclusions as I may. Having once attackedany human being, we feel a strange, but terribly impulsive desire againto seek that person for more blood. But I love you, Flora; the smallamount of sensibility that still lingers about my preternaturalexistence, acknowledges in you a pure and better spirit. I would fainsave you. "

"Oh! tell me how I may escape the terrible infliction. "

"That can only be done by flight. Leave this place, I implore you! leaveit as quickly as the movement may be made. Linger not--cast not oneregretful look behind you on your ancient home. I shall remain in thislocality for years. Let me lose sight of you, I will not pursue you;but, by force of circumstances, I am myself compelled to linger here. Flight is the only means by which you may avoid a doom as terrific asthat which I endure. "

"But tell me, " said Flora, after a moment's pause, during which sheappeared to be endeavouring to gather courage to ask some fearfulquestion; "tell me if it be true that those who have once endured theterrific attack of a vampyre, become themselves, after death, one ofthat dread race?"

"It is by such means, " said Varney, "that the frightful brood increases;but time and circumstances must aid the development of the new andhorrible existence. You, however, are safe. "

"Safe! Oh! say that word again. "

"Yes, safe; not once or twice will the vampyre's attack have sufficientinfluence on your mortal frame, as to induce a susceptibility on yourpart to become coexistent with such as he. The attacks must be oftenrepeated, and the termination of mortal existence must be a consequenceessential, and direct from those attacks, before such a result may beanticipated. "

"Yes, yes; I understand. "

"If you were to continue my victim from year to year, the energies oflife would slowly waste away, and, till like some faint taper's gleam, consuming more sustenance than it received, the veriest accident wouldextinguish your existence, and then, Flora Bannerworth, you might becomea vampyre. "

"Oh! horrible! most horrible!"

"If by chance, or by design, the least glimpse of the cold moonbeamsrested on your apparently lifeless remains, you would rise again and beone of us--a terror to yourself and a desolation to all around. "

"Oh! I will fly from here, " said Flora. "The hope of escape from soterrific and dreadful a doom shall urge me onward; if flight can saveme--flight from Bannerworth Hall, I will pause not until continents andoceans divide us. "

"It is well. I'm able now thus calmly to reason with you. A few shortmonths more and I shall feel the languor of death creeping over me, andthen will come that mad excitement of the brain, which, were you hiddenbehind triple doors of steel, would tempt me again to seek yourchamber--again to seize you in my full embrace--again to draw from yourveins the means of prolonged life--again to convulse your very soul withterror. "

"I need no incentives, " said Flora, with a shudder, "in the shape ofdescriptions of the past, to urge me on. "

"You will fly from Bannerworth Hall?"

"Yes, yes!" said Flora, "it shall be so; its very chambers now arehideous with the recollection of scenes enacted in them. I will urge mybrothers, my mother, all to leave, and in some distant clime we willfind security and shelter. There even we will learn to think of you withmore of sorrow than of anger--more pity than reproach--more curiositythan loathing. "

"Be it so, " said the vampyre; and he clasped his hands, as if with athankfulness that he had done so much towards restoring peace at leastto one, who, in consequence of his acts, had felt such exquisitedespair. "Be it so; and even I will hope that the feelings which haveinduced so desolated and so isolated a being as myself to endeavour tobring peace to one human heart, will plead for me, trumpet-tongued, toHeaven!"

"It will--it will, " said Flora. 

"Do you think so?"

"I do; and I will pray that the thought may turn to certainty in such acause. "

The vampyre appeared to be much affected; and then he added, --

"Flora, you know that this spot has been the scene of a catastrophefearful to look back upon, in the annals of your family?"

"It has, " said Flora. "I know to what you allude; 'tis a matter ofcommon knowledge to all--a sad theme to me, and one I would not court. "

"Nor would I oppress you with it. Your father, here, on this very spot, committed that desperate act which brought him uncalled for to thejudgment seat of God. I have a strange, wild curiosity upon suchsubjects. Will you, in return for the good that I have tried to do you, gratify it?"

"I know not what you mean, " said Flora. 

"To be more explicit, then, do you remember the day on which your fatherbreathed his last?"

"Too well--too well. "

"Did you see him or converse with him shortly before that desperate actwas committed?"

"No; he shut himself up for some time in a solitary chamber. "

"Ha! what chamber?"

"The one in which I slept myself on the night--"

"Yes, yes; the one with the portrait--that speaking portrait--the eyesof which seem to challenge an intruder as he enters the apartment. "

"The same. "

"For hours shut up there!" added Varney, musingly; "and from thence hewandered to the garden, where, in this summer-house, he breathed hislast?"

"It was so. "

"Then, Flora, ere I bid you adieu--"

These words were scarcely uttered, when there was a quick, hastyfootstep, and Henry Bannerworth appeared behind Varney, in the veryentrance of the summer-house. 

"Now, " he cried, "for revenge! Now, foul being, blot upon the earth'ssurface, horrible imitation of humanity, if mortal arm can do aughtagainst you, you shall die!"

A shriek came from the lips of Flora, and flinging herself past Varney, who stepped aside, she clung to her brother, who made an unavailing passwith his sword at the vampyre. It was a critical moment; and had thepresence of mind of Varney deserted him in the least, unarmed as he was, he must have fallen beneath the weapon of Henry. To spring, however, upthe seat which Flora had vacated, and to dash out some of the flimsy androtten wood-work at the back of the summer-house by the propulsive powerof his whole frame, was the work of a moment; and before Henry couldfree himself from the clinging embrace of Flora, Varney, the vampyre wasgone, and there was no greater chance of his capture than on a formeroccasion, when he was pursued in vain from the Hall to the wood, in theintricacies of which he was so entirely lost. 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE EXPLANATION. --MARCHDALE'S ADVICE. --THE PROJECTED REMOVAL, AND THEADMIRAL'S ANGER. 

[Illustration]

This extremely sudden movement on the part of Varney was certainly asunexpected as it was decisive. Henry had imagined, that by takingpossession of the only entrance to the summer-house, he must come intopersonal conflict with the being who had worked so much evil for him andhis; and that he should so suddenly have created for himself anothermode of exit, certainly never occurred to him. 

"For Heaven's sake, Flora, " he said, "unhand me; this is a time foraction. "

"But, Henry, Henry, hear me. "

"Presently, presently, dear Flora; I will yet make another effort toarrest the headlong flight of Varney. "

He shook her off, perhaps with not more roughness than was necessary toinduce her to forego her grasp of him, but in a manner that fully showedhe intended to be free; and then he sprang through the same aperturewhence Varney had disappeared, just as George and Mr. Marchdale arrivedat the door of the summer-house. 

It was nearly morning, so that the fields were brightening up with thefaint radiance of the coming day; and when Henry reached a point whichhe knew commanded an extensive view, he paused, and ran his eye eagerlyalong the landscape, with a hope of discovering some trace of thefugitive. 

Such, however, was not the case; he saw nothing, heard nothing of SirFrancis Varney; and then he turned, and called loudly to George to joinhim, and was immediately replied to by his brother's presence, accompanied by Marchdale. 

Before, however, they could exchange a word, a rattling discharge offire-arms took place from one of the windows, and they heard theadmiral, in a loud voice, shouting, --

"Broadside to broadside! Give it them again, Jack! Hit them between windand water!"

Then there was another rattling discharge, and Henry exclaimed, --

"What is the meaning of that firing?"

"It comes from the admiral's room, " said Marchdale. "On my life, I thinkthe old man must be mad. He has some six or eight pistols ranged in arow along the window-sill, and all loaded, so that by the aid of a matchthey can be pretty well discharged as a volley, which he considers theonly proper means of firing upon the vampyre. "

"It is so, " replied George; "and, no doubt, hearing an alarm, he hascommenced operations by firing into the enemy. "

"Well, well, " said Henry; "he must have his way. I have pursued Varneythus far, and that he has again retreated to the wood, I cannot doubt. Between this and the full light of day, let us at least make an effortto discover his place of retreat. We know the locality as well as he canpossibly, and I propose now that we commence an active search. "

"Come on, then, " said Marchdale. "We are all armed; and I, for one, shall feel no hesitation in taking the life, if it be possible to do so, of that strange being. "

"Of that possibility you doubt?" said George, as they hurried on acrossthe meadows. 

"Indeed I do, and with reason too. I'm certain that when I fired at himbefore I hit him; and besides, Flora must have shot him upon theoccasion when we were absent, and she used your pistols Henry, to defendherself and her mother. "

"It would seem so, " said Henry; "and disregarding all presentcircumstances, if I do meet him, I will put to the proof whether he bemortal or not. "

The distance was not great, and they soon reached the margin of thewood; they then separated agreeing to meet within it, at a well-spring, familiar to them all: previous to which each was to make his bestendeavour to discover if any one was hidden among the bush-wood or inthe hollows of the ancient trees they should encounter on their line ofmarch. 

The fact was, that Henry finding that he was likely to pass anexceedingly disturbed, restless night, through agitation of spirits, had, after tossing to and fro on his couch for many hours, wisely atlength risen, and determined to walk abroad in the gardens belonging tothe mansion, in preference to continuing in such a state of fever andanxiety, as he was in, in his own chamber. 

Since the vampyre's dreadful visit, it had been the custom of both thebrothers, occasionally, to tap at the chamber door of Flora, who, at herown request, now that she had changed her room, and dispensed with anyone sitting up with her, wished occasionally to be communicated with bysome member of the family. 

Henry, then, after rapidly dressing, as he passed the door of herbedroom, was about to tap at it, when to his surprise he found it open, and upon hastily entering it he observed that the bed was empty, and ahasty glance round the apartment convinced him that Flora was not there. 

Alarm took possession of him, and hastily arming himself, he rousedMarchdale and George, but without waiting for them to be ready toaccompany him, he sought the garden, to search it thoroughly in case sheshould be anywhere there concealed. 

Thus it was he had come upon the conference so strangely and sounexpectedly held between Varney and Flora in the summer-house. Withwhat occurred upon that discovery the readers are acquainted. 

Flora had promised George that she would return immediately to thehouse, but when, in compliance with the call of Henry, George andMarchdale had left her alone, she felt so agitated and faint that shebegan to cling to the trellis work of the little building for a fewmoments before she could gather strength to reach the mansion. 

Two or three minutes might thus have elapsed, and Flora was in such astate of mental bewilderment with all that had occurred, that she couldscarce believe it real, when suddenly a slight sound attracted herattention, and through the gap which had been made in the wall of thesummer-house, with an appearance of perfect composure, again appearedSir Francis Varney. 

"Flora, " he said, quietly resuming the discourse which had been brokenoff, "I am quite convinced now that you will be much the happier for theinterview. "

"Gracious Heaven!" said Flora, "whence have you come from?"

"I have never left, " said Varney. 

"But I saw you fly from this spot. "

"You did; but it was only to another immediately outside the summerhouse. I had no idea of breaking off our conference so abruptly. "

"Have you anything to add to what you have already stated?"

"Absolutely nothing, unless you have a question to propose to me--Ishould have thought you had, Flora. Is there no other circumstanceweighing heavily upon your mind, as well as the dreadful visitation Ihave subjected you to?"

"Yes, " said Flora. "What has become of Charles Holland?"

"Listen. Do not discard all hope; when you are far from here you willmeet with him again. "

"But he has left me. "

"And yet he will be able, when you again encounter him, so far toextenuate his seeming perfidy, that you shall hold him as untouched inhonour as when first he whispered to you that he loved you. "

"Oh, joy! joy!" said Flora; "by that assurance you have robbedmisfortune of its sting, and richly compensated me for all that I havesuffered. "

"Adieu!" said the vampyre. "I shall now proceed to my own home by adifferent route to that taken by those who would kill me. "

"But after this, " said Flora, "there shall be no danger; you shall beheld harmless, and our departure from Bannerworth Hall shall be soquick, that you will soon be released from all apprehension of vengeancefrom my brother, and I shall taste again of that happiness which Ithought had fled from me for ever. "

"Farewell, " said the vampire; and folding his cloak closely around him, he strode from the summer-house, soon disappearing from her sight behindthe shrubs and ample vegetation with which that garden abounded. 

Flora sunk upon her knees, and uttered a brief, but heartfeltthanksgiving to Heaven for this happy change in her destiny. The hue ofhealth faintly again visited her cheeks, and as she now, with a feelingof more energy and strength than she had been capable of exerting formany days, walked towards the house, she felt all that delightfulsensation which the mind experiences when it is shaking off the trammelsof some serious evil which it delights now to find that the imaginationhas attired in far worse colours than the facts deserved. 

It is scarcely necessary, after this, to say that the search in the woodfor Sir Francis Varney was an unproductive one, and that the morningdawned upon the labours of the brother and of Mr. Marchdale, withouttheir having discovered the least indication of the presence of Varney. Again puzzled and confounded, they stood on the margin of the wood, andlooked sadly towards the brightening windows of Bannerworth Hall, whichwere now reflecting with a golden radiance the slant rays of the morningsun. 

"Foiled again, " remarked Henry, with a gesture of impatience; "foiledagain, and as completely as before. I declare that I will fight thisman, let our friend the admiral say what he will against such a measureI will meet him in mortal combat; he shall consummate his triumph overour whole family by my death, or I will rid the world and ourselves ofso frightful a character. "

"Let us hope, " said Marchdale, "that some other course may be adopted, which shall put an end to these proceedings. "

"That, " exclaimed Henry, "is to hope against all probability; what othercourse can be pursued? Be this Varney man or devil, he has evidentlymarked us for his prey. "

[Illustration]

"Indeed, it would seem so, " remarked George; "but yet he shall find thatwe will not fall so easily; he shall discover that if poor Flora'sgentle spirit has been crushed by these frightful circumstances, we areof a sterner mould. "

"He shall, " said Henry; "I for one will dedicate my life to this matter. I will know no more rest than is necessary to recruit my frame, until Ihave succeeded in overcoming this monster; I will seek no pleasure here, and will banish from my mind, all else that may interfere with that onefixed pursuit. He or I must fall. "

"Well spoken, " said Marchdale; "and yet I hope that circumstances mayoccur to prevent such a necessity of action, and that probably you willyet see that it will be wise and prudent to adopt a milder and a safercourse. "

"No, Marchdale, you cannot feel as we feel. You look on more as aspectator, sympathising with the afflictions of either, than feeling thefull sting of those afflictions yourself. "

"Do I not feel acutely for you? I'm a lonely man in the world, and Ihave taught myself now to centre my affections in your family; myrecollections of early years assist me in so doing. Believe me, both ofyou, that I am no idle spectator of your griefs, but that I share themfully. If I advise you to be peaceful, and to endeavour by the gentlestmeans possible to accomplish your aims, it is not that I would counselyou cowardice; but having seen so much more of the world than either ofyou have had time or opportunity of seeing, I do not look soenthusiastically upon matters, but, with a cooler, calmer judgment, I donot say a better, I proffer to you my counsel. "

"We thank you, " said Henry; "but this is a matter in which action seemsspecially called for. It is not to be borne that a whole family is to beoppressed by such a fiend in human shape as that Varney. "

"Let me, " said Marchdale, "counsel you to submit to Flora's decision inthis business; let her wishes constitute the rules of action. She is thegreatest sufferer, and the one most deeply interested in the terminationof this fearful business. Moreover she has judgment and decision ofcharacter--she will advise you rightly, be assured. "

"That she would advise us honourably, " said Henry, "and that we shouldfeel every disposition in the world to defer to her wishes ourproposition, is not to be doubted; but little shall be done without hercounsel and sanction. Let us now proceed homeward, for I am most anxiousto ascertain how it came about that she and Sir Francis Varney weretogether in that summer-house at so strange an hour. "

They all three walked together towards the house, conversing in asimilar strain as they went. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE CONSULTATION. --THE DUEL AND ITS RESULTS. 

[Illustration]

Independent of this interview which Flora had had with the much dreadedSir Francis Varney, the circumstances in which she and all who were dearto her, happened at that moment to be placed, certainly required anamount of consideration, which could not be too soon bestowed. 

By a combination of disagreeables, everything that could possibly occurto disturb the peace of the family seemed to have taken place at once;like Macbeth's, their troubles had truly come in battalions, and nowthat the serenity of their domestic position was destroyed, minor evilsand annoyances which that very serenity had enabled them to hold atarm's-length became gigantic, and added much to their distress. 

The small income, which, when all was happiness, health and peace, wasmade to constitute a comfortable household, was now totally inadequateto do so--the power to economise and to make the most of a little, hadflown along with that contentedness of spirit which the harmony ofcircumstances alone could produce. 

It was not to be supposed that poor Mrs. Bannerworth could now, as shehad formerly done, when her mind was free from anxiety, attend to thosedomestic matters which make up the comforts of a family--distracted atthe situation of her daughter, and bewildered by the rapid succession oftroublesome events which so short a period of time had given birth to, she fell into an inert state of mind as different as anything couldpossibly be, from her former active existence. 

It has likewise been seen how the very domestics fled from BannerworthHall in dismay, rather than remain beneath the same roof with a familybelieved to be subject to the visitations of so awful a being as avampyre. 

Among the class who occupy positions of servitude, certainly there mighthave been found some, who, with feelings and understandings above suchconsiderations, would have clung sympathetically to that family indistress, which they had known under a happier aspect; but it had notbeen the good fortune of the Bannerworths to have such as these aboutthem; hence selfishness had its way, and they were deserted. It was notlikely, then, that strangers would willingly accept service in a familyso situated, without some powerful impulse in the shape of a higherpecuniary consideration, as was completely out of the power of theBannerworths to offer. 

Thus was it, then, that most cruelly, at the very time that they hadmost need of assistance and of sympathy, this unfortunate family almostbecame isolated from their kind; and, apart from every otherconsideration, it would have been almost impossible for them to continueinhabitants of the Hall, with anything like comfort, or advantage. 

And then, although the disappearance of Charles Holland no longerawakened those feelings of indignation at his supposed perfidy whichwere first produced by that event; still, view it in which way theymight, it was a severe blow of fate, and after it, they one and allfound themselves still less able to contend against the sea of troublesthat surrounded them. 

The reader, too, will not have failed to remark that there was about thewhole of the family that pride of independence which induced them toshrink from living upon extraneous aid; and hence, although they feltand felt truly, that when Admiral Bell, in his frank manner, offeredthem pecuniary assistance, that it was no idle compliment, yet with asensitiveness such as they might well be expected to feel, they heldback, and asked each other what prospect there was of emerging from sucha state of things, and if it were justifiable to commence a life ofdependence, the end of which was not evident or tangible. 

Notwithstanding, too, the noble confidence of Flora in her lover, andnotwithstanding that confidence had been echoed by her brothers, therewould at times obtrude into the minds of the latter, a feeling of thepossibility, that after all they might be mistaken; and Charles Hollandmight, from some sudden impulse, fancying his future happiness was allat stake, have withdrawn himself from the Hall, and really written theletters attributed to him. 

We say this only obtruded itself occasionally, for all their realfeelings and aspirations were the other way, although Mr. Marchdale, they could perceive, had his doubts, and they could not but confess thathe was more likely to view the matter calmly and dispassionately thanthey. 

In fact, the very hesitation with which he spoke upon the subject, convinced them of his doubt; for they attributed that hesitation to afear of giving them pain, or of wounding the prejudices of Admiral Bell, with whom he had already had words so nearly approaching to a quarrel. 

Henry's visit to Mr. Chillingworth was not likely to be productive ofany results beyond those of a conjectural character. All that thatgentleman could do was to express a willingness to be directed by themin any way, rather than suggest any course of conduct himself uponcircumstances which he could not be expected to judge of as they whowere on the spot, and had witnessed their actual occurrence. 

And now we will suppose that the reader is enabled with us to look intoone of the principal rooms of Bannerworth Hall. It is evening, and somecandles are shedding a sickly light on the ample proportions of the oncehandsome apartment. At solemn consultation the whole of the family areassembled. As well as the admiral, Mr. Chillingworth, and Marchdale, Jack Pringle, too, walked in, by the sufferance of his master, as if heconsidered he had a perfect right to do so. 

The occasion of the meeting had been a communication which Flora hadmade concerning her most singular and deeply interesting interview withthe vampyre. The details of this interview had produced a deep effectupon the whole of the family. Flora was there, and she looked better, calmer, and more collected than she had done for some days past. 

No doubt the interview she had had with Varney in the summer-house inthe garden had dispelled a host of imaginary terrors with which she hadsurrounded him, although it had confirmed her fully that he and he onlywas the dreadful being who had caused her so much misery. 

That interview had tended to show her that about him there was yetsomething human, and that there was not a danger of her being hunteddown from place to place by so horrible an existence. 

Such a feeling as this was, of course, a source of deep consolation; andwith a firmer voice, and more of her old spirit of cheerfulness abouther than she had lately exhibited, she again detailed the particulars ofthe interview to all who had assembled, concluding by saying, --

"And this has given me hope of happier days. If it be a delusion, it isa happy one; and now that but a frightful veil of mystery still hangsover the fate of Charles Holland, I how gladly would I bid adieu to thisplace, and all that has made it terrible. I could almost pity SirFrancis Varney, rather than condemn him. "

"That may be true, " said Henry, "to a certain extent, sister; but wenever can forget the amount of misery he has brought upon us. It is noslight thing to be forced from our old and much-loved home, even if suchproceeding does succeed in freeing us from his persecutions. "

"But, my young friend, " said Marchdale, "you must recollect, thatthrough life it is continually the lot of humanity to be endeavouring tofly from great evils to those which do not present themselves to themind in so bad an aspect. It is something, surely, to alleviateaffliction, if we cannot entirely remove it. "

"That is true, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "to a considerable extent, butthen it takes too much for granted to please me. "

"How so, sir?"

"Why, certainly, to remove from Bannerworth Hall is a much less evilthan to remain at Bannerworth Hall, and be haunted by a vampyre; butthen that proposition takes for granted that vampyre business, which Iwill never grant. I repeat, again and again, it is contrary to allexperience, to philosophy, and to all the laws of ordinary nature. "

"Facts are stubborn things, " said Marchdale. 

"Apparently, " remarked Mr. Chillingworth. 

"Well, sir; and here we have the fact of a vampyre. "

"The presumed fact. One swallow don't make a summer, Mr. Marchdale. "

"This is waste of time, " said Henry--"of course, the amount of evidencethat will suffice to bring conviction to one man's mind will fail indoing so to another. The question is, what are we to do?"

All eyes were turned upon Flora, as if this question was moreparticularly addressed to her, and it behoved her, above all others, toanswer it. She did so; and in a firm, clear voice, she said, --

"I will discover the fate of Charles Holland, and then leave the Hall. "

"The fate of Charles Holland!" said Marchdale. "Why, really, unless thatyoung gentleman chooses to be communicative himself upon so interestinga subject, we may be a long while discovering his fate. I know that itis not a romantic view to take of the question, to suppose simply thathe wrote the three letters found upon his dressing-table, and thendecamped; but to my mind, it savours most wonderfully of matter-of-fact. I now speak more freely than I have otherwise done, for I am now uponthe eve of my departure. I have no wish to remain here, and breeddissension in any family, or to run a tilt against anybody'sprejudices. " Here he looked at Admiral Bell. "I leave this houseto-night. "

"You're a d----d lubberly thief, " said the admiral; "the sooner youleave it the better. Why, you bad-looking son of a gun, what do youmean? I thought we'd had enough of that. "

"I fully expected this abuse, " said Marchdale. 

"Did you expect that?" said the admiral, as he snatched up an inkstand, and threw at Marchdale, hitting him a hard knock on the chin, andbespattering its contents on his breast. "Now I'll give yousatisfaction, you lubber. D--me, if you ain't a second Jones, and enoughto sink the ship. Shiver my timbers if I sha'n't say something strongpresently. "

"I really, " said Henry, "must protest, Admiral Bell, against thisconduct. "

"Protest and be d----d. "

"Mr. Marchdale may be right, sir, or he may be wrong, it's a matter ofopinion. "

"Oh, never mind, " said Marchdale; "I look upon this old nautical ruffianas something between a fool and a madman. If he were a younger man Ishould chastise him upon the spot; but as it is I live in hopes yet ofgetting him into some comfortable lunatic asylum. "

"Me into an asylum!" shouted the admiral. "Jack, did you hear that?"

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"Farewell all of you, " said Marchdale; "my best wishes be with thisfamily. I cannot remain under this roof to be so insulted. "

"A good riddance, " cried the admiral. "I'd rather sail round the worldwith a shipload of vampyres than with such a humbugging son of a gun asyou are. D----e, you're worse than a lawyer. "

"Nay, nay, " cried they, "Mr. Marchdale, stay. "

"Stay, stay, " cried George, and Mrs. Bannerworth, likewise, said stay;but at the moment Flora stepped forward, and in a clear voice shesaid, --

"No, let him go, he doubts Charles Holland; let all go who doubt CharlesHolland. Mr. Marchdale, Heaven forgive you this injustice you are doing. We may never meet again. Farewell, sir!"

These words were spoken in so decided a tone, that no one contradictedthem. Marchdale cast a strange kind of look round upon the familycircle, and in another instant he was gone. 

"Huzza!" shouted Jack Pringle; "that's one good job. "

Henry looked rather resentful, which the admiral could not but observe, and so, less with the devil-may-care manner in which he usually spoke, the old man addressed him. 

"Hark ye, Mr. Henry Bannerworth, you ain't best pleased with me, and inthat case I don't know that I shall stay to trouble you any longer, asfor your friend who has left you, sooner or later you'll find him out--Itell you there's no good in that fellow. Do you think I've been cruizingabout for a matter of sixty years, and don't know an honest man when Isee him. But never mind, I'm going on a voyage of discovery for mynephew, and you can do as you like. "

"Heaven only knows, Admiral Bell, " said Henry, "who is right and who iswrong. I do much regret that you have quarrelled with Mr. Marchdale; butwhat is done can't be undone. "

"Do not leave us, " said Flora; "let me beg of you, Admiral Bell, not toleave us; for my sake remain here, for to you I can speak freely andwith confidence, of Charles, when probably I can do so to no one else. You knew him well and have a confidence in him, which no one else canaspire to. I pray you, therefore, to stay with us. "

"Only on one condition, " said the admiral. 

"Name it--name it!

"You think of letting the Hall?"

"Yes, yes. "

"Let me have it, then, and let me pay a few years in advance. If youdon't, I'm d----d if I stay another night in the place. You must give meimmediate possession, too, and stay here as my guests until you suityourselves elsewhere. Those are my terms and conditions. Say yes, andall's right; say no, and I'm off like a round shot from a carronade. D----me, that's the thing, Jack, isn't it?"

"Ay, ay, sir. "

There was a silence of some few moments after this extraordinary offerhad been made, and then they spoke, saying, --

"Admiral Bell, your generous offer, and the feelings which dictated it, are by far too transparent for us to affect not to understand them. Youractions, Admiral--"

"Oh, bother my actions! what are they to you? Come, now, I considermyself master of the house, d--n you! I invite you all to dinner, orsupper, or to whatever meal comes next. Mrs. Bannerworth, will youoblige me, as I'm an old fool in family affairs, by buying what's wantedfor me and my guests? There's the money, ma'am. Come along, Jack, we'lltake a look over our new house. What do you think of it?"

"Wants some sheathing, sir, here and there. "

"Very like; but, however, it will do well enough for us; we're in port, you know. Come along. "

"Ay, ay, sir. "

And off went the admiral and Jack, after leaving a twenty pound note inMrs. Bannerworth's lap. 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S SEPARATE OPPONENTS. --THE INTERPOSITION OF FLORA. 

[Illustration]

The old admiral so completely overcame the family of the Bannerworths byhis generosity and evident single-mindedness of his behaviour, thatalthough not one, except Flora, approved of his conduct towards Mr. Marchdale, yet they could not help liking him; and had they been placedin a position to choose which of the two they would have had remain withthem, the admiral or Marchdale, there can be no question they would havemade choice of the former. 

Still, however, it was not pleasant to find a man like Marchdalevirtually driven from the house, because he presumed to differ inopinion upon a very doubtful matter with another of its inmates. But asit was the nature of the Bannerworth family always to incline to themost generous view of subjects, the frank, hearty confidence of the oldadmiral in Charles Holland pleased them better than the calm and seriousdoubting of Marchdale. 

His ruse of hiring the house of them, and paying the rent in advance, for the purpose of placing ample funds in their hands for anycontingency, was not the less amiable because it was so easily seenthrough; and they could not make up their minds to hurt the feelings ofthe old man by the rejection of his generous offer. 

When he had left, this subject was canvassed among them, and it wasagreed that he should have his own way in the matter for the present, although they hoped to hear something from Marchdale, which should makehis departure appear less abrupt and uncomfortable to the whole of thefamily. 

During the course of this conversation, it was made known to Flora withmore distinctness than under any other circumstances it would have been, that George Holland had been on the eve of fighting a duel with SirFrancis Varney, previous to his mysterious disappearance. 

When she became fully aware of this fact, to her mind it seemedmaterially to add to the suspicions previously to then entertained, thatfoul means had been used in order to put Charles out of the way. 

"Who knows, " she said, "that this Varney may not shrink with thegreatest terror from a conflict with any human being, and feeling onewas inevitable with Charles Holland, unless interrupted by some vigorousact of his own, he or some myrmidons of his may have taken Charles'slife!"

"I do not think, Flora, " said Henry, "that he would have ventured uponso desperate an act; I cannot well believe such a thing possible. Butfear not; he will find, it he have really committed any such atrocity, that it will not save him. "

These words of Henry, though it made no impression at the time uponFlora, beyond what they carried upon their surface, they really, however, as concerned Henry himself, implied a settled resolution, whichhe immediately set about reducing to practice. 

When the conference broke up, night, as it still was, he, without sayinganything to any one, took his hat and cloak, and left the Hall, proceeding by the nearest practicable route to the residence of SirFrancis Varney, where he arrived without any interruption of anycharacter. 

Varney was at first denied to him, but before he could leave the house, a servant came down the great staircase, to say it was a mistake; andthat Sir Francis was at home, and would be happy to see him. 

He was ushered into the same apartment where Sir Frances Varney hadbefore received his visitors; and there sat the now declared vampyre, looking pale and ghastly by the dim light which burned in the apartment, and, indeed, more like some spectre of the tomb, than one of the greatfamily of man. 

"Be seated, sir, " said Varney; "although my eyes have seldom thepleasure of beholding you within these walls, be assured you are ahonoured guest. "

"Sir Francis Varney, " said Henry, "I came not here to bandy complimentswith you; I have none to pay to you, nor do I wish to hear any of themfrom your lips. "

"An excellent sentiment, young man, " said Varney, "and well delivered. May I presume, then, without infringing too far upon your extremecourtesy, to inquire, to what circumstances I am indebted for yourvisit?"

"To one, Sir Francis, that I believe you are better acquainted with thanyou will have the candour to admit. "

"Indeed, sir, " said Varney, coldly; "you measure my candour, probably, by a standard of your own; in which case I fear, I may be no gainer; andyet that may be of itself a circumstance that should afford little foodfor surprise, but proceed, sir--since we have so few compliments tostand between us and our purpose, we shall in all due time arrive atit. "

"Yes, in due time, Sir Francis Varney, and that due time has arrived. Know you anything of my friend, Mr. Charles Holland?" said Henry, inmarked accents; and he gazed on Sir Francis Varney with earnestness, that seemed to say not even a look should escape his observation. 

Varney, however, returned the gaze as steadily, but coldly, as hereplied in his measured accents, --

"I have heard of the young gentleman. "

"And seen him?"

"And seen him too, as you, Mr. Bannerworth, must be well aware. Surelyyou have not come all this way, merely to make such an inquiry; but, sir, you are welcome to the answer. "

Henry had something of a struggle to keep down the rising anger, atthese cool taunts of Varney; but he succeeded--and then he said, --

"I suspect Charles Holland, Sir Francis Varney, has met with unfairtreatment, and that he has been unfairly dealt with, for an unworthypurpose. "

"Undoubtedly, " said Varney, "if the gentleman you allude to, has beenunfairly dealt with, it was for a foul purpose; for no good or generousobject, my young sir, could be so obtained--you acknowledge so much, Idoubt not?"

"I do, Sir Francis Varney; and hence the purpose of my visit here--forthis reason I apply to you--"

"A singular object, supported by a singular reason. I cannot see theconnection, young sir; pray proceed to enlighten me upon this matter, and when you have done that, may I presume upon your consideration, toinquire in what way I can be of any service to you?"

"Sir Francis, " said Henry, his anger raising his tones--"this will notserve you--I have come to exact an account of how you have disposed ofmy friend; and I will have it. "

"Gently, my good sir; you are aware I know nothing of your friend; hismotions are his own; and as to what I have done with him; my only answeris, that he would permit me to do nothing with him, had I been soinclined to have taken the liberty. "

"You are suspected, Sir Francis Varney, of having made an attempt uponthe life or liberty of Charles Holland; you, in fact, are suspected ofbeing his murderer--and, so help me Heaven! if I have not justice, Iwill have vengeance!"

"Young sir, your words are of grave import, and ought to be coollyconsidered before they are uttered. With regard to justice andvengeance, Mr. Bannerworth, you may have both; but I tell you, ofCharles Holland, or what has become of him, I know nothing. Butwherefore do you come to so unlikely a quarter to learn something of anindividual of whom I know nothing?"

"Because Charles Holland was to have fought a duel with you: but beforethat had time to take place, he has suddenly become missing. I suspectthat you are the author of his disappearance, because you fear anencounter with a mortal man. "

"Mr. Bannerworth, permit me to say, in my own defence, that I do notfear any man, however foolish he may be; and wisdom is not an attributeI find, from experience in all men, of your friend. However, you must bedreaming, sir--a kind of vivid insanity has taken possession of yourmind, which distorts--"

"Sir Francis Varney!" exclaimed Henry, now perfectly uncontrollable. 

"Sir, " said Varney, as he filled up the pause, "proceed; I am allattention. You do me honour. "

"If, " resumed Henry, "such was your object in putting Mr. Holland aside, by becoming personally or by proxy an assassin, you are mistaken insupposing you have accomplished your object. "

"Go on, sir, " said Sir Francis Varney, in a bland and sweet tone; "I amall attention; pray proceed. "

"You have failed; for I now here, on this spot, defy you to mortalcombat. Coward, assassin as you are, I challenge you to fight. "

"You don't mean on the carpet here?" said Varney, deliberately. 

"No, sir; but beneath the canopy of heaven, in the light of the day. Andthen, Sir Francis, we shall see who will shrink from the conflict. "

"It is remarkably good, Mr. Bannerworth, and, begging your pardon, for Ido not wish to give any offence, my honoured sir, it would rehearsebefore an audience; in short, sir, it is highly dramatic. "

"You shrink from the combat, do you? Now, indeed, I know you. "

"Young man--young man, " said Sir Francis, calmly, and shaking his headvery deliberately, and the shadows passed across his pale face, "youknow me not, if you think Sir Francis Varney shrinks from any man, muchless one like yourself. "

"You are a coward, and worse, if you refuse my challenge. "

"I do not refuse it; I accept it, " said Varney, calmly, and in adignified manner; and then, with a sneer, he added, --"You are wellacquainted with the mode in which gentlemen generally manage thesematters, Mr. Bannerworth, and perhaps I am somewhat confined in myknowledge in the ways of the world, because you are your own principaland second. In all my experience, I never met with a similar case. "

"The circumstances under which it is given are as unexampled, and willexcuse the mode of the challenge, " said Henry, with much warmth. 

"Singular coincidence--the challenge and mode of it is most singular!They are well matched in that respect. Singular, did I say? The more Ithink of it, Mr. Bannerworth, the more I am inclined to think thispositively odd. "

"Early to-morrow, Sir Francis, you shall hear from me. "

"In that case, you will not arrange preliminaries now? Well, well; it isvery unusual for the principals themselves to do so; and yet, excuse myfreedom, I presumed, as you had so far deserted the beaten track, that Ihad no idea how far you might be disposed to lead the same route. "

"I have said all I intended to say, Sir Francis Varney; we shall seeeach other again. "

"I may not detain you, I presume, to taste aught in the way ofrefreshment?"

Henry made no reply, but turned towards the door, without even making anattempt to return the grave and formal bow that Sir Francis Varney madeas be saw him about to quit the apartment; for Henry saw that his palefeatures were lighted up with a sarcastic smile, most disagreeable tolook upon as well as irritating to Henry Bannerworth. 

He now quitted Sir Francis Varney's abode, being let out by a servantwho had been rung for for that purpose by his master. 

Henry walked homeward, satisfied that he had now done all that he couldunder the circumstances. 

"I will send Chillingworth to him in the morning, and then I shall seewhat all this will end in. He must meet me, and then Charles Holland, ifnot discovered, shall be, at least, revenged. "

There was another person in Bannerworth Hall who had formed a similarresolution. That person was a very different sort of person to HenryBannerworth, though quite as estimable in his way. 

This was no other than the old admiral. It was singular that two suchvery different persons should deem the same steps necessary, and bothkeep the secret from each other; but so it was, and, after some internalswearing, he determined upon challenging Varney in person. 

"I'd send Jack Pringle, but the swab would settle the matter as shortlyas if a youngster was making an entry in a log, and heard theboatswain's whistle summoning the hands to a mess, and feared he wouldlose his grog. 

"D--n my quarters! but Sir Francis Varney, as he styles himself, sha'n'tmake any way against old Admiral Bell. He's as tough as a hawser, andjust the sort of blade for a vampyre to come athwart. I'll pitch himend-long, and make a plank of him afore long. Cus my windpipe! what along, lanky swab he is, with teeth fit to unpick a splice; but let mealone, I'll see if I can't make a hull of his carcass, vampyre or novampyre. 

"My nevy, Charles Holland, can't be allowed to cut away without nobody'sleave or licence. No, no; I'll not stand that anyhow. 'Never desert amessmate in the time of need, ' is the first maxim of a seaman, and Iain't the one as 'll do so. "

Thus self-communing, the old admiral marched along until he came to SirFrancis Varney's house, at the gate of which he gave the bell what hecalled a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether, that set itringing with a fury, the like of which had never certainly been heard bythe household. 

A minute or two scarcely elapsed before the domestics hurried to answerso urgent a summons; and when the gate was opened, the servant whoanswered it inquired his business. 

"What's that to you, snob? Is your master, Sir Francis Varney, in?because, if he be, let him know old Admiral Bell wants to speak to him. D'ye hear?"

"Yes, sir, " replied the servant, who had paused a few moments to examinethe individual who gave this odd kind of address. 

In another minute word was brought to him that Sir Francis Varney wouldbe very happy to see Admiral Bell. 

"Ay, ay, " he muttered; "just as the devil likes to meet with holy water, or as I like any water save salt water. "

He was speedily introduced to Sir Francis Varney, who was seated in thesame posture as he had been left by Henry Bannerworth not many minutesbefore. 

"Admiral Bell, " said Sir Francis, rising, and bowing to that individualin the most polite, calm, and dignified manner imaginable, "permit me toexpress the honour I feel at this unexpected visit. "

"None of your gammon. "

"Will you be seated. Allow me to offer you such refreshments as thispoor house affords. "

"D--n all this! You know, Sir Francis, I don't want none o' thispalaver. It's for all the world like a Frenchman, when you are going togive him a broadside; he makes grimaces, throws dust in your eyes, andtries to stab you in the back. Oh, no! none of that for me. "

"I should say not, Admiral Bell. I should not like it myself, and I daresay you are a man of too much experience not to perceive when you are orare not imposed upon. "

"Well, what is that to you? D--n me, I didn't come here to talk to youabout myself. "

"Then may I presume upon your courtesy so far as to beg that you willenlighten me upon the object of your visit!"

"Yes; in pretty quick time. Just tell me where you have stowed away mynephew, Charles Holland?"

"Really, I--"

"Hold your slack, will you, and hear me out; if he's living, let himout, and I'll say no more about it; that's liberal, you know; it ain'tterms everybody would offer you. "

"I must, in truth, admit they are not; and, moreover, they quitesurprise even me, and I have learned not to be surprised at almostanything. "

"Well, will you give him up alive? but, hark ye, you mustn't have madevery queer fish of him, do ye see?"

"I hear you, " said Sir Francis, with a bland smile, passing one handgently over the other, and showing his front teeth in a peculiar manner;"but I really cannot comprehend all this; but I may say, generally, thatMr. Holland is no acquaintance of mine, and I have no sort of knowledgewhere he may be. "

"That won't do for me, " said the admiral, positively, shaking his head. 

"I am particularly sorry, Admiral Bell, that it will not, seeing that Ihave nothing else to say. "

"I see how it is; you've put him out of the way, and I'm d----d if youshan't bring him to life, whole and sound, or I'll know the reason why. "

"With that I have already furnished you, Admiral Bell, " quietly rejoinedVarney; "anything more on that head is out of my power, though mywillingness to oblige a person of such consideration as yourself, isvery great; but, permit me to add, this is a very strange and oddcommunication from one gentleman to another. You have lost a relative, who has, very probably, taken some offence, or some notion into hishead, of which nobody but himself knows anything, and you come to oneyet more unlikely to know anything of him, than even yourself. 

"Gammon again, now, Sir Francis Varney, or Blarney. "

"Varney, if you please, Admiral Bell; I was christened Varney. "

"Christened, eh?"

"Yes, christened--were you not christened? If not, I dare say youunderstand the ceremony well enough. "

[Illustration]

"I should think I did; but, as for christening, a--"

"Go on, sir. "

"A vampyre! why I should as soon think of reading the burial service ofa pig. "

"Very possible; but what has all this to do with your visit to me?"

"This much, you lubber. Now, d--n my carcass from head to stern, if Idon't call you out. "

"Well, Admiral Bell, " slid Varney, mildly, "in that case, I suppose Imust come out; but why do you insist that I have any knowledge of yournephew, Mr. Charles Holland?"

"You were to have fought a duel with him, and now he's gone. "

"I am here, " said Varney. 

"Ay, " said the admiral, "that's as plain as a purser's shirt upon ahandspike; but that's the very reason why my nevey ain't here, andthat's all about it. "

"And that's marvellous little, so far as the sense is concerned, " saidVarney, without the movement of a muscle. 

"It is said that people of your class don't like fighting mortal men;now you have disposed of him, lest he should dispose of you. "

"That is explicit, but it is to no purpose, since the gentleman inquestion hasn't placed himself at my disposal. "

"Then, d----e, I will; fish, flesh, or fowl, I don't care; all's one toAdmiral Bell. Come fair or fowl, I'm a tar for all men; a seaman everready to face a foe, so here goes, you lubberly moon manufactured calf. "

"I hear, admiral, but it is scarcely civil, to say the least of it;however, as you are somewhat eccentric, and do not, I dare say, mean allyour words imply, I am quite willing to make every allowance. "

"I don't want any allowance; d--n you and your allowance, too; nothingbut allowance of grog, and a pretty good allowance, too, will do for me, and tell you, Sir Francis Varney, " said the admiral, with much wrath, "that you are a d----d lubberly hound, and I'll fight you; yes, I'mready to hammer away, or with anything from a pop-gun to a ship's gun;you don't come over me with your gammon, I tell you. You've murderedCharles Holland because you couldn't face him--that's the truth of it. "

"With the other part of your speech, Admiral Bell, allow me to say, youhave mixed up a serious accusation--one I cannot permit to passlightly. "

"Will you or not fight?"

"Oh, yes; I shall be happy to serve you any way that I can. I hope thiswill be an answer to your accusation, also. "

"That's settled, then. "

"Why, I am not captious, Admiral Bell, but it is not generally usual forthe principals to settle the preliminaries themselves; doubtless you, inyour career of fame and glory, know something of the manner in whichgentlemen demean themselves on these occasions. "

"Oh, d--n you! Yes, I'll send some one to do all this. Yes, yes, JackPringle will be the man, though Jack ain't a holiday, shore-going, smooth-spoken swab, but as good a seaman as ever trod deck or handled aboarding-pike. "

"Any friend of yours, " said Varney, blandly, "will be received andtreated as such upon an errand of such consequence; and now ourconference has, I presume, concluded. "

"Yes, yes, I've done--d----e, no--yes--no. I will keel-haul you but I'llknow something of my neavy, Charles Holland. "

"Good day, Admiral Bell. " As Varney spoke, he placed his hand upon thebell which he had near him, to summon an attendant to conduct theadmiral out. The latter, who had said a vast deal more than he everintended, left the room in a great rage, protesting to himself that hewould amply avenge his nephew, Charles Holland. 

He proceeded homeward, considerably vexed and annoyed that he had beentreated with so much calmness, and all knowledge of his nephew denied. 

When he got back, he quarrelled heartily with Jack Pringle--made itup--drank grog--quarrelled--made it up, and finished with grogagain--until he went to bed swearing he should like to fire a broadsideat the whole of the French army, and annihilate it at once. 

With this wish, he fell asleep. 

Early next morning, Henry Bannerworth sought Mr. Chillingworth, andhaving found him, he said in a serious tone, --

"Mr. Chillingworth, I have rather a serious favour to ask you, and onewhich you may hesitate in granting. "

"It must be very serious indeed, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "that I shouldhesitate to grant it to you; but pray inform me what it is that you deemso serious?"

"Sir Francis Varney and I must have a meeting, " said Henry. 

"Have you really determined upon such a course?" said Mr. Chillingworth;"you know the character of your adversary?"

"That is all settled, --I have given a challenge, and he has accepted it;so all other considerations verge themselves into one--and that is thewhen, where, and how. "

"I see, " said Mr. Chillingworth. "Well, since it cannot be helped onyour part, I will do what is requisite for you--do you wish anything tobe done or insisted on in particular in this affair. "

"Nothing with regard to Sir Francis Varney that I may not leave to yourdiscretion. I feel convinced that he is the assassin of Charles Holland, whom he feared to fight in duel. "

"Then there remains but little else to do, but to arrange preliminaries, I believe. Are you prepared on every other point?"

"I am--you will see that I am the challenger, and that he must nowfight. What accident may turn up to save him, I fear not, but sure I am, that he will endeavour to take every advantage that may arise, and soescape the encounter. "

"And what do you imagine he will do now he has accepted your challenge?"said Mr. Chillingworth; "one would imagine he could not very wellescape. "

"No--but he accepted the challenge which Charles Holland sent him--aduel was inevitable, and it seems to me to be a necessary consequencethat he disappeared from amongst us, for Mr. Holland would never haveshrunk from the encounter. "

"There can be no sort of suspicion about that, " remarked Chillingworth;"but allow me to advise you that you take care of yourself, and keep awatchful eye upon every one--do not be seen out alone. "

"I fear not. "

"Nay, the gentleman who has disappeared was, I am sure, fearless enough;but yet that has not saved him. I would not advise you to be fearful, only watchful; you have now an event awaiting upon you, which it is wellyou should go through with, unless circumstances should so turn out, that it is needless; therefore I say, when you have the suspicions youdo entertain of this man's conduct, beware, be cautious, and vigilant. "

"I will do so--in the mean time, I trust myself confidently in yourhands--you know all that is necessary. "

"This affair is quite a secret from all of the family?"

"Most certainly so, and will remain so--I shall be at the Hall. "

"And there I will see you--but be careful not to be drawn into anyadventure of any kind--it is best to be on the safe side under allcircumstances. "

"I will be especially careful, be assured, but farewell; see Sir FrancisVarney as early as you can, and let the meeting be as early as you can, and thus diminish the chance of accident. "

"That I will attend to. Farewell for the present. "

Mr. Chillingworth immediately set about the conducting of the affairthus confided to him; and that no time might be lost, he determined toset out at once for Sir Francis Varney's residence. 

"Things with regard to this family seem to have gone on wild of late, "thought Mr. Chillingworth; "this may bring affairs to a conclusion, though I had much rather they had come to some other. My life for it, there is a juggle or a mystery somewhere; I will do this, and then weshall see what will come of it; if this Sir Francis Varney meetshim--and at this moment I can see no reason why he should not do so--itwill tend much to deprive him of the mystery about him; but if, on theother hand, he refuse--but then that's all improbable, because he hasagreed to do so. I fear, however, that such a man as Varney is adreadful enemy to encounter--he is cool and unruffled--and that giveshim all the advantage in such affairs; but Henry's nerves are not bad, though shaken by these untowards events; but time will show--I would itwere all over. "

With these thoughts and feelings strangely intermixed, Mr. Chillingworthset forward for Sir Francis Varney's house. 

 * * * * *

Admiral Bell slept soundly enough though, towards morning, he fell intoa strange dream, and thought he was yard arm and yard arm with a strangefish--something of the mermaid species. 

"Well, " exclaimed the admiral, after a customary benediction of his eyesand limbs, "what's to come next? may I be spliced to a shark if Iunderstand what this is all about. I had some grog last night, but thengrog, d'y'see, is--is--a seaman's native element, as the newspapers say, though I never read 'em now, it's such a plague. "

He lay quiet for a short time, considering in his own mind what was bestto he done, and what was the proper course to pursue, and why he shoulddream. 

"Hilloa, hilloa, hil--loa! Jack a-hoy! a-hoy!" shouted the admiral, as asudden recollection of his challenge came across his memory; "JackPringle a-hoy? d--n you, where are you?--you're never at hand when youare wanted. Oh, you lubber, --a-hoy!"

"A-hoy!" shouted a voice, as the door opened, and Jack thrust his headin; "what cheer, messmate? what ship is this?"

"Oh, you lubberly--"

The door was shut in a minute, and Jack Pringle disappeared. 

"Hilloa, Jack Pringle, you don't mean to say you'll desert your colours, do you, you dumb dog?"

"Who says I'll desert the ship as she's sea-worthy!"

"Then why do you go away?"

"Because I won't be called lubberly. I'm as good a man as ever swabbed adeck, and don't care who says to the contrary. I'll stick to the ship aslong as she's seaworthy, " said Jack. 

"Well, come here, and just listen to the log, and be d----d to you. "

"What's the orders now, admiral?" said Jack, "though, as we are paidoff--"

"There, take that, will you?" said Admiral Bell, as he flung a pillow atJack, being the only thing in the shape of a missile within reach. 

Jack ducked, and the pillow produced a clatter in the washhand-standamong the crockery, as Jack said, --

"There's a mutiny in the ship, and hark how the cargo clatters; will youhave it back again?"

"Come, will you? I've been dreaming, Jack. "

"Dreaming! what's that?"

"Thinking of something when you are asleep, you swab. "

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Jack; "never did such a thing in my life--ha, ha, ha! what's the matter now?"

"I'll tell you what's the matter. Jack Pringle, you are becomingmutinous, and I won't have it; if you don't hold your jaw and draw inyour slacks, I'll have another second. "

"Another second! what's in the wind, now?" said Jack. "Is this thedream?"

"If ever I dream when I'm alongside a strange craft, then it is a dream;but old Admiral Bell ain't the man to sleep when there's any work to bedone. "

"That's uncommon true, " said Jack, turning a quid. 

"Well, then, I'm going to fight. "

"Fight!" exclaimed Jack. "Avast, there, I don't see where's theenemy--none o' that gammon; Jack Pringle can fight, too, and will layalongside his admiral, but he don't see the enemy anywhere. "

"You don't understand these things, so I'll tell you. I have had a bitof talk with Sir Francis Varney, and I am going to fight him. "

"What the _wamphigher_?" remarked Jack, parenthetically. 

"Yes. "

"Well, then, " resumed Jack, "then we shall see another blaze, at leastafore we die; but he's an odd fish--one of Davy Jones's sort. "

"I don't care about that; he may be anything he likes; but Admiral Bellain't a-going to have his nephew burned and eaten, and sucked like Idon't know what, by a vampyre, or by any other confounded land-shark. "

"In course, " said Jack, "we ain't a-going to put up with nothing of thatsort, and if so be as how he has put him out of the way, why it's ourduty to send him after him, and square the board. "

"That's the thing, Jack; now you know you must go to Sir Francis Varneyand tell him you come from me. "

"I don't care if I goes on my own account, " said Jack. 

"That won't do; I've challenged him and I must fight him. "

"In course you will, " returned Jack, "and, if he blows you away, whyI'll take your place, and have a blaze myself. "

The admiral gave a look at Jack of great admiration, and then said, --

"You are a d----d good seaman, Jack, but he's a knight, and might say noto that, but do you go to him, and tell him that you come from me tosettle the when and the where this duel is to be fought. "

"Single fight?" said Jack. 

"Yes; consent to any thing that is fair, " said the admiral, "but let itbe as soon as you can. Now, do you understand what I have said?"

"Yes, to be sure; I ain't lived all these years without knowing yourlingo. "

"Then go at once; and don't let the honour of Admiral Bell and oldEngland suffer, Jack. I'm his man, you know, at any price. "

"Never fear, " said Jack; "you shall fight him, at any rate. I'll go andsee he don't back out, the warmint. "

"Then go along, Jack; and mind don't you go blazing away like a fireship, and letting everybody know what's going on, or it'll be stopped. "

"I'll not spoil sport, " said Jack, as he left the room, to go at once toSir Francis Varney, charged with the conducting of the important cartelof the admiral. Jack made the best of his way with becoming gravity andexpedition until he reached the gate of the admiral's enemy. 

Jack rang loudly at the gate; there seemed, if one might judge by hiscountenance, a something on his mind, that Jack was almost another man. The gate was opened by the servant, who inquired what he wanted there. 

"The wamphigher. "

"Who?"

"The wamphigher. "

The servant frowned, and was about to say something uncivil to Jack, whowinked at him very hard, and then said, --

"Oh, may be you don't know him, or won't know him by that name: I wantsto see Sir Francis Varney. "

"He's at home, " said the servant; "who are you?"

"Show me up, then. I'm Jack Pringle, and I'm come from Admiral Bell; I'mthe Admiral's friend, you see, so none of your black looks. "

The servant seemed amazed, as well as rather daunted, at Jack's address;he showed him, however, into the hall, where Mr. Chillingworth had justthat moment arrived, and was waiting for an interview with Varney. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

MARCHDALE'S OFFER. --THE CONSULTATION AT BANNERWORTH HALL. --THE MORNINGOF THE DUEL. 

[Illustration]

Mr. Chillingworth was much annoyed to see Jack Pringle in the hall, andJack was somewhat surprised at seeing Mr. Chillingworth there at thattime in the rooming; they had but little time to indulge in their mutualastonishment, for a servant came to announce that Sir Francis Varneywould see them both. 

Without saying anything to the servant or each other, they ascended thestaircase, and were shown into the apartment where Sir Francis Varneyreceived them. 

"Gentlemen, " said Sir Francis, in his usual bland tone, "you arewelcome. "

"Sir Francis, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "I have come upon matters of someimportance; may I crave a separate audience?"

"And I too, " said Jack Pringle; "I come as the friend of Admiral Bell, Iwant a private audience; but, stay, I don't care a rope's end who knowswho I am, or what I come about; say you are ready to name time andplace, and I'm as dumb as a figure-head; that is saying something, at allevents; and now I'm done. "

"Why, gentlemen, " said Sir Francis, with a quiet smile, "as you haveboth come upon the same errand, and as there may arise a controversyupon the point of precedence, you had better be both present, as I mustarrange this matter myself upon due inquiry. "

"I do not exactly understand this, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "do you, Mr. Pringle? perhaps you can enlighten me?"

"It, " said Jack, "as how you came here upon the same errand as I, and Ias you, why we both come about fighting Sir Francis Varney. "

"Yes, " said Sir Francis; "what Mr. Pringle says, is, I believe correctto a letter. I have a challenge from both your principals, and am readyto give you both the satisfaction you desire, provided the firstencounter will permit me the honour of joining in the second. You, Mr. Pringle, are aware of the chances of war?"

"I should say so, " said Jack, with a wink and a nod of a familiarcharacter. "I've seen a few of them. "

"Will you proceed to make the necessary agreement between you both, gentlemen? My affection for the one equals fully the good will I bearthe other, and I cannot give a preference in so delicate a matter;proceed gentlemen. "

Mr. Chillingworth looked at Jack, and Jack Pringle looked at Mr. Chillingworth, and then the former said, --

"Well, the admiral means fighting, and I am come to settle thenecessaries; pray let me know what are your terms, Mr. What-d'ye-call'em. "

"I am agreeable to anything that is at all reasonable--pistols, Ipresume?"

"Sir Francis Varney, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "I cannot consent to carryon this office, unless you can appoint a friend who will settle thesematters with us--myself, at least. "

"And I too, " said Jack Pringle; "we don't want to bear down an enemy. Admiral Bell ain't the man to do that, and if he were, I'm not the manto back him in doing what isn't fair or right; but he won't do it. "

"But, gentlemen, this must not be; Mr. Henry Bannerworth must not bedisappointed, and Admiral Bell must not be disappointed. Moreover, Ihave accepted the two cartels, and I am ready and willing to fight;--oneat a time, I presume?"

"Sir Francis, after what you have said, I must take upon myself, on thepart of Mr. Henry Bannerworth, to decline meeting you, if you cannotname a friend with whom I can arrange this affair. "

"Ah!" said Jack Pringle, "that's right enough. I recollect very wellwhen Jack Mizeu fought Tom Foremast, they had their seconds. AdmiralBell can't do anything in the dark. No, no, d----e! all must be aboveboard. "

"Gentlemen, " said Sir Francis Varney, "you see the dilemma I am in. Yourprincipals have both challenged me. I am ready to fight any one, or bothof them, as the case may be. Distinctly understand that; because it is anotion of theirs that I will not do so, or that I shrink from them; butI am a stranger in this neighbourhood, and have no one whom I could callupon to relinquish so much, as they run the risk of doing by attendingme to the field. "

"Then your acquaintances are no friends, d----e!" said Jack Pringle, spitting through his teeth into the bars of a beautifully polishedgrate. "I'd stick to anybody--the devil himself, leave alone avampyre--if so be as how I had been his friends and drunk grog from thesame can. They are a set of lubbers. "

"I have not been here long enough to form any such friendships, Mr. Chillingworth; but can confidently rely upon your honour and that ofyour principal, and will freely and fairly meet him. "

"But, Sir Francis, you forget the fact, in transacting, myself forMr. Bannerworth, and this person or Admiral Bell, we do match, and haveour own characters at stake; nay more, our lives and fortunes. These maybe small; but they are everything to us. Allow me to say, on my ownbehalf, that I will not permit my principal to meet you unless you canname a second, as is usual with gentlemen on such occasions. "

"I regret, while I declare to you my entire willingness to meet you, that I cannot comply through utter inability to do so, with yourrequest. Let this go forth to the world as I have stated it, and let itbe an answer to any aspersions that may be uttered as to myunwillingness to fight. "

There was a pause of some moments. Mr. Chillingworth was resolved that, come of it what would, he would not permit Henry to fight, unless SirFrancis Varney himself should appoint a friend, and then they could meetupon equal terms. 

Jack Pringle whistled, and spit, and chewed and turned his quid--hitchedup his trousers, and looked wistfully from one to the other, as hesaid, --

"So then it's likely to be no fight at all, Sir Francis what's-o'-name?"

"It seems like it, Mr. Pringle, " replied Varney, with a meaning smile;"unless you can be more complaisant towards myself, and kind towards theadmiral. "

"Why, not exactly that, " said Jack; "it's a pity to stop a good play inthe beginning, just because some little thing is wrong in the tackling. "

"Perhaps your skill and genius may enable us to find some medium coursethat we may pursue with pleasure and profit. What say you, Mr. Pringle?"

"All I know about genius, as you call it is the Flying Dutchman, or somesuch odd out of the way fish. But, as I said, I am not one to spoilsport, nor more is the admiral. Oh, no, we is all true men and good. "

"I believe it, " said Varney, bowing politely. 

"You needn't keep your figure-head on the move; I can see you just aswell. Howsoever, as I was saying, I don't like to spoil sport, andsooner than both parties should be disappointed, my principal shallbecome your second, Sir Francis. "

"What, Admiral Bell?" exclaimed Varney, lifting his eyebrows withsurprise. 

"What, Charles Holland's uncle!" exclaimed Mr. Chillingworth, in accentsof amazement. 

"And why not?" said Jack, with great gravity. "I will pledge myword--Jack Pringle's word--that Admiral Bell shall be second to SirFrancis Varney, during his scrimmage with Mr. Henry Bannerworth. Thatwill let the matter go on; there can be no back-out then, eh?" continuedJack Pringle, with a knowing nod at Chillingworth as he spoke. 

"That will, I hope, remove your scruples, Mr. Chillingworth, " saidVarney, with a courteous smile. 

"But will Admiral Bell do this?"

"His second says so, and has, I daresay, influence enough with him toinduce that person to act in conformity with his promise. "

"In course he will. Do you think he would be the man to hang back? Oh, no; he would be the last to leave Jack Pringle in the lurch--no. Dependupon it, Sir Francis, he'll be as sure to do what I say, as I have saidit. "

"After that assurance, I cannot doubt it, " said Sir Francis Varney;"this act of kindness will, indeed, lay me under a deep and lastingobligation to Admiral Bell, which I fear I shall never be able to pay. "

"You need not trouble yourself about that, " said Jack Pringle; "theadmiral will credit all, and you can pay off old scores when his turncomes in the field. "

"I will not forget, " said Varney; "he deserves every consideration; butnow, Mr. Chillingworth, I presume that we may come to some understandingrespecting this meeting, which you were so kind as to do me the honourof seeking. "

"I cannot object to its taking place. I shall be most happy to meet yoursecond in the field, and will arrange with him. "

"I imagine that, under the circumstances, that it will be barelynecessary to go to that length of ceremony. Future interviews can bearranged later; name the time and place, and after that we can settleall the rest on the ground. "

"Yes, " said Jack; "it will be time enough, surely, to see the admiralwhen we are upon the ground. I'll warrant the old buffer is a true brickas ever was: there's no flinching about him. "

"I am satisfied, " said Varney. 

"And I also, " said Chillingworth; "but, understand, Sir Francis, anydefault for seconds makes the meeting a blank. "

"I will not doubt Mr. Pringle's honour so much as to believe itpossible. "

"I'm d----d, " said Jack, "if you ain't a trump-card, and no mistake;it's a great pity as you is a wamphigher. "

"The time, Mr. Chillingworth?"

"To-morrow, at seven o'clock, " replied that gentleman. 

"The place, sir?"

"The best place that I can think of is a level meadow half-way betweenhere and Bannerworth Hall; but that is your privilege, Sir FrancisVarney. "

"I waive it, and am much obliged to you for the choice of the spot; itseems of the best character imaginable. I will be punctual. "

"I think we have nothing further to arrange now, " said Mr. Chillingworth. "You will meet with Admiral Bell. "

"Certainly. I believe there is nothing more to be done; this affair isvery satisfactorily arranged, and much better than I anticipated. "

"Good morning, Sir Francis, " said Mr. Chillingworth. "Good morning. "

"Adieu, " said Sir Francis, with a courteous salutation. "Good day, Mr. Pringle, and commend me to the admiral, whose services will be ofinfinite value to me. "

"Don't mention it, " said Jack; "the admiral's the man as'd lend any bodya helping hand in case of distress like the present; and I'll pledge myword--Jack Pringle's too, as that he'll do what's right, and give up histurn to Mr. Henry Bannerworth; cause you see he can have his turnarterwards, you know--it's only waiting awhile. "

"That's all, " said Sir Francis. 

Jack Pringle made a sea bow and took his leave, as he followed Mr. Chillingworth, and they both left the house together, to return toBannerworth Hall. 

"Well, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "I am glad that Sir Francis Varney hasgot over the difficulty of having no seconds; for it would not be properor safe to meet a man without a friend for him. "

"It ain't the right thing, " said Jack hitching up his trousers; "but Iwas afeard as how he would back out, and that would be just the wrongthing for the admiral; he'd go raving mad. "

They had got but very few paces from Sir Francis Varney's house, whenthey were joined by Marchdale. 

"Ah, " he said, as he came up, "I see you have been to Sir FrancisVarney's, if I may judge from the direction whence you're coming, andyour proximity. "

"Yes, we have, " said Mr. Chillingworth. "I thought you had left theseparts?"

"I had intended to do so, " replied Marchdale; "but second thoughts aresometimes best, you know. "

"Certainly. "

"I have so much friendship for the family at the hall, thatnotwithstanding I am compelled to be absent from the mansion itself, yetI cannot quit the neighbourhood while there are circumstances of such acharacter hanging about them. I will remain, and see if there be notsomething arising, in which I may be useful to them in some matter. "

"It is very disinterested of you; you will remain here for some time, Isuppose?"

"Yes, undoubtedly; unless, as I do not anticipate, I should see anyoccasion to quit my present quarters. "

"I tell you what it is, " said Jack Pringle; "if you had been herehalf-an-hour earlier you could have seconded the wamphigher. "

"Seconded!"

"Yes, we're here to challenge. "

"A double challenge?"

"Yes; but in confiding this matter to you, Mr. Marchdale, you will makeno use of it to the exploding of this affair. By so doing you willseriously damage the honour of Mr. Henry Bannerworth. "

"I will not, you may rely upon it; but Mr. Chillingworth, do I not seeyou in the character of a second?"

"You do, sir. "

"To Mr. Henry?"

"The same, sir. "

"Have you reflected upon the probable consequences of such an act, should any serious mischief occur?"

"What I have undertaken, Mr. Marchdale, I will go through with; theconsequences I have duly considered, and yet you see me in the characterof Mr. Henry Bannerworth's friend. "

"I am happy to see you as such, and I do not think Henry could find abetter. But this is beside the question. What induced me to make theremark was this, --had I been at the hall, you will admit that HenryBannerworth would have chosen myself, without any disparagement to you, Mr. Chillingworth. "

"Well sir, what then?"

"Why I am a single man, I can live, reside and go any where; one countrywill suit me as well as another. I shall suffer no loss, but as for you, you will be ruined in every particular; for if you go in the characterof a second, you will not be excused; for all the penalties incurredyour profession of a surgeon will not excuse you. "

"I see all that, sir. "

"What I propose is, that you should accompany the parties to the field, but in your own proper character of surgeon, and permit me to take thatof second to Mr. Bannerworth. "

"This cannot be done, unless by Mr. Henry Bannerworth's consent, " saidMr. Chillingworth. 

"Then I will accompany you to Bannerworth Hall, and see Mr. Henry, whomI will request to permit me to do what I have mentioned to you. "

Mr. Chillingworth could not but admit the reasonableness of thisproposal, and it was agreed they should return to Bannerworth Hall incompany. 

Here they arrived in a very short time after, and entered together. 

"And now, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "I will go and bring our twoprincipals, who will be as much astonished to find themselves engaged inthe same quarrel, as I was to find myself sent on a similar errand toSir Francis with our friend Mr. John Pringle. "

"Oh, not John--Jack Pringle, you mean, " said that individual. 

Chillingworth now went in search of Henry, and sent him to the apartmentwhere Mr. Marchdale was with Jack Pringle, and then he found the admiralwaiting the return of Jack with impatience. 

"Admiral!" he said, "I perceive you are unwell this morning. "

"Unwell be d----d, " said the admiral, starting up with surprise. "Whoever heard that old admiral Bell looked ill just afore he was going intoaction? I say it's a scandalous lie. "

"Admiral, admiral, I didn't say you were ill; only you looked ill--a--alittle nervous, or so. Rather pale, eh? Is it not so?"

"Confound you, do you think I want to be physicked? I tell you, I havenot a little but a great inclination to give you a good keelhauling. Idon't want a doctor just yet. "

"But it may not be so long, you know, admiral; but there is Jack Pringlea-waiting you below. Will you go to him? There is a particular reason;he has something to communicate from Sir Francis Varney, I believe. "

The admiral gave a look of some amazement at Mr. Chillingworth, and thenhe said, muttering to himself, --

"If Jack Pringle should have betrayed me--but, no; he could not do that, he is too true. I'm sure of Jack; and how did that son of a gallipothint about the odd fish I sent Jack to?"

Filled with a dubious kind of belief which he had about something he hadheard of Jack Pringle, he entered the room, where he met Marchdale, JackPringle, and Henry Bannerworth. Immediately afterwards, Mr. Chillingworth entered the apartment. 

"I have, " said he, "been to Sir Francis Varney, and there had aninterview with him, and with Mr. Pringle; when I found we were bothintent upon the same object, namely, an encounter with the knight by ourprincipals. "

"Eh?" said the admiral. 

"What!" exclaimed Henry; "had he challenged you, admiral?"

"Challenged me!" exclaimed Admiral Bell, with a round oath. "I--however--since it comes to this, I must admit I challenged him. "

"That's what I did, " said Henry Bannerworth, after a moment's thought;"and I perceive we have both fallen into the same line of conduct. "

"That is the fact, " said Mr. Chillingworth. "Both Mr. Pringle and I wentthere to settle the preliminaries, and we found an insurmountable bar toany meeting taking place at all. "

"He wouldn't fight, then?" exclaimed Henry. "I see it all now. "

"Not fight!" said Admiral Bell, with a sort of melancholydisappointment. "D--n the cowardly rascal! Tell me, Jack Pringle, whatdid the long horse-marine-looking slab say to it? He told me he wouldfight. Why he ought to be made to stand sentry over the wind. "

"You challenged him in person, too, I suppose?" said Henry. 

"Yes, confound him! I went there last night. "

"And I too. "

"It seems to me, " said Marchdale, "that this affair has been notindiscretely conducted; but somewhat unusually and strangely, to say theleast of it. "

"You see, " said Chillingworth, "Sir Francis was willing to fight bothHenry and the admiral, as he told us. "

"Yes, " said Jack; "he told us he would fight us both, if so be as hislight was not doused in the first brush. "

"That was all that was wanted, " said the admiral. 

"We could expect no more. "

"But then he desired to meet you without any second; but, of course, Iwould not accede to this proposal. The responsibility was too great andtoo unequally borne by the parties engaged in the rencontre. "

"Decidedly, " said Henry; "but it is unfortunate--very unfortunate. "

"Very, " said the admiral--"very. What a rascally thing it is there ain'tanother rogue in the country to keep him in countenance. "

[Illustration]

"I thought it was a pity to spoil sport, " said Jack Pringle. "It was apity a good intention should be spoiled, and I promised the wamphigherthat if as how he would fight, you should second him, and you'd meet himto do so. "

"Eh! who? I!" exclaimed the admiral in some perplexity. 

"Yes; that is the truth, " said Mr. Chillingworth. "Mr Pringle said youwould do so, and he then and there pledged his word that you should meethim on the ground and second him. "

"Yes, " said Jack "You must do it. I knew you would not spoil sport, andthat there had better be a fight than no fight. I believe you'd soonersee a scrimmage than none, and so it's all arranged. "

"Very well, " said the admiral, "I only wish Mr. Henry Bannerworth hadbeen his second; I think I was entitled to the first meeting. "

"No, " said Jack, "you warn't, for Mr. Chillingworth was there first;first come first served, you know. "

"Well, well, I mustn't grumble at another man's luck; mine'll come inturn; but it had better be so than a disappointment altogether; I'll besecond to this Sir Francis Varney; he shall have fair play, as I'm anadmiral; but, d----e he shall fight--yes, yes, he shall fight. "

"And to this conclusion I would come, " said Henry, "I wish him to fight;now I will take care that he shall not have any opportunity of puttingme on one side quietly. "

"There is one thing, " observed Marchdale, "that I wished to propose. After what has passed, I should not have returned, had I not somepresentiment that something was going forward in which I could be usefulto my friend. "

"Oh!" said the admiral, with a huge twist of his countenance. 

"What I was about to say was this, --Mr. Chillingworth has much to loseas he is situated, and I nothing as I am placed. I am chained down to nospot of earth. I am above following a profession--my means, I mean, place me above the necessity. Now, Henry, allow me to be your second inthis affair; allow Mr. Chillingworth to attend in his professionalcapacity; he may be of service--of great service to one of theprincipals; whereas, if he go in any other capacity, he will inevitablyhave his own safety to consult. "

"That is most unquestionably true, " said Henry, "and, to my mind, thebest plan that can be proposed. What say you, Admiral Bell, will you actwith Mr. Marchdale in this affair?"

"Oh, I!--Yes--certainly--I don't care. Mr. Marchdale is Mr. Marchdale, Ibelieve, and that's all I care about. If we quarrel to-day, and haveanything to do to-morrow, in course, to-morrow I can put off my quarrelfor next day; it will keep, --that's all I have to say at present. "

"Then this is a final arrangement?" said Mr. Chillingworth. 

"It is. "

"But, Mr. Bannerworth, in resigning my character of second to Mr. Marchdale, I only do so because it appears and seems to be the opinionof all present that I can be much better employed in another capacity. "

"Certainly, Mr. Chillingworth; and I cannot but feel that I am under thesame obligations to you for the readiness and zeal with which you haveacted. "

"I have done what I have done, " said Chillingworth, "because I believedit was my duty to do so. "

"Mr. Chillingworth has undoubtedly acted most friendly and efficientlyin this affair, " said Marchdale; "and he does not relinquish the partfor the purpose of escaping a friendly deed, but to perform one in whichhe may act in a capacity that no one else can. "

"That is true, " said the admiral. 

"And now, " said Chillingworth, "you are to meet to-morrow morning in themeadow at the bottom of the valley, half way between here and SirFrancis Varney's house, at seven o'clock in the morning. "

More conversation passed among them, and it was agreed that they shouldmeet early the next morning, and that, of course, the affair should bekept a secret. 

Marchdale for that night should remain in the house, and the admiralshould appear as if little or nothing was the matter; and he and JackPringle retired, to talk over in private all the arrangements. 

Henry Bannerworth and Marchdale also retired, and Mr. Chillingworth, after a time, retired, promising to be with them in time for the meetingnext morning. 

Much of that day was spent by Henry Bannerworth in his own apartment, inwriting documents and letters of one kind and another; but at night hehad not finished, for he had been compelled to be about, and in Flora'spresence, to prevent anything from being suspected. 

Marchdale was much with him, and in secret examined the arms, ammunition, and bullets, and saw all was right for the next morning; andwhen he had done, he said, --

"Now, Henry, you must permit me to insist that you take some hours'repose, else you will scarcely be as you ought to be. "

"Very good, " said Henry. "I have just finished, and can take youradvice. "

After many thoughts and reflections, Henry Bannerworth fell into a deepsleep, and slept several hours in calmness and quietude, and at an earlyhour he awoke, and saw Marchdale sitting by him. 

"Is it time, Marchdale? I have not overslept myself, have I?"

"No; time enough--time enough, " said Marchdale. "I should have let yousleep longer, but I should have awakened you in good time. "

It was now the grey light of morning, and Henry arose and began toprepare for the encounter. Marchdale stole to Admiral Bell's chamber, but he and Jack Pringle were ready. 

Few words were spoken, and those few were in a whisper, and the wholeparty left the Hall in as noiseless a manner as possible. It was a mildmorning, and yet it was cold at that time of the morning, just as day isbeginning to dawn in the east. There was, however, ample time to reachthe rendezvous. 

It was a curious party that which was now proceeding towards the spotappointed for the duel, the result of which might have so important aneffect on the interests of those who were to be engaged in it. 

It would be difficult for us to analyse the different and conflictingemotions that filled the breasts of the various individuals composingthat party--the hopes and fears--the doubts and surmises that were givenutterance to; though we are compelled to acknowledge that though toHenry, the character of the man he was going to meet in mortal fight wasof a most ambiguous and undefined nature, and though no one couldimagine the means he might be endowed with for protection against thearms of man--Henry, as we said, strode firmly forward with unflinchingresolution. His heart was set on recovering the happiness of his sister, and he would not falter. 

So far, then, we may consider that at length proceedings of a hostilecharacter were so far clearly and fairly arranged between HenryBannerworth and that most mysterious being who certainly, from somecause or another, had betrayed no inclination to meet an opponent inthat manner which is sanctioned, bad as it is, by the usages of society. 

But whether his motive was one of cowardice or mercy, remained yet to beseen. It might be that he feared himself receiving some mortal injury, which would at once put a stop to that preternatural career of existencewhich he affected to shudder at, and yet evidently took considerablepains to prolong. 

Upon the other hand, it is just possible that some consciousness ofinvulnerability on his own part, or of great power to injure hisantagonist, might be the cause why he had held back so long fromfighting the duel, and placed so many obstacles in the way of the usualnecessary arrangements incidental to such occasions. 

Now, however, there would seem to be no possible means of escape. SirFrancis Varney must fight or fly, for he was surrounded by too manyopponents. 

To be sure he might have appealed to the civil authorities to protecthim, and to sanction him in his refusal to commit what undoubtedly is alegal offence; but then there cannot be a question that the whole of thecircumstances would come out, and meet the public eye--the result ofwhich would be, his acquisition of a reputation as unenviable as itwould be universal. 

It had so happened, that the peculiar position of the Bannerworth familykept their acquaintance within extremely narrow limits, and greatlyindisposed them to set themselves up as marks for peculiar observation. 

Once holding, as they had, a proud position in the county, and beinglooked upon quite as magnates of the land, they did not now court theprying eye of curiosity to look upon their poverty; but rather with agloomy melancholy they lived apart, and repelled the advances of societyby a cold reserve, which few could break through. 

Had this family suffered in any noble cause, or had the misfortuneswhich had come over them, and robbed their ancestral house of itslustre, been an unavoidable dispensation of providence, they would haveborne the hard position with a different aspect; but it must beremembered, that to the faults, the vices, and the criminality of someof their race, was to be attributed their present depressed state. 

It has been seen during the progress of our tale, that its action hasbeen tolerably confined to Bannerworth Hall, its adjacent meadows, andthe seat of Sir Francis Varney; the only person at any distance, knowinganything of the circumstances, or feeling any interest in them, beingMr. Chillingworth, the surgeon, who, from personal feeling, as well asfrom professional habit, was not likely to make a family's affairs asubject of gossip. 

A change, however, was at hand--a change of a most startling andalarming character to Varney--one which he might expect, yet not be wellprepared for. 

This period of serenity was to pass away, and he was to become mostalarmingly popular. We will not, however, anticipate, but proceed atonce to detail as briefly as may be the hostile meeting. 

It would appear that Varney, now that he had once consented to thedefinitive arrangements of a duel, shrunk not in any way from carryingthem out, nor in the slightest attempted to retard arrangements whichmight be fatal to himself. 

The early morning was one of those cloudy ones so frequently occurringin our fickle climate, when the cleverest weather prophet would find itdifficult to predict what the next hour might produce. 

There was a kind of dim gloominess over all objects; and as there wereno bright lights, there were no deep shadows--the consequence of whichwas a sureness of effect over the landscape, that robbed it of many ofits usual beauties. 

Such was the state of things when Marchdale accompanied Henry andAdmiral Bell from Bannerworth Hall across the garden in the direction ofthe hilly wood, close to which was the spot intended for the scene ofencounter. 

Jack Pringle came on at a lazy pace behind with his hands in hispockets, and looking as unconcerned as if he had just come out for amorning's stroll, and scarcely knew whether he saw what was going on ornot. 

The curious contort on into which he twisted his countenance, and thedifferent odd-looking lumps that appeared in it from time to time, maybe accounted for by a quid of unusual size, which he seemed to bemasticating with a relish quite horrifying to one unused to so barbarousa luxury. 

The admiral had strictly enjoined him not to interfere on pain of beingconsidered a lubber and no seaman for the remainder of hisexistence--threatened penalties which, of course, had their own weightwith Jack, and accordingly he came just, to see the row in as quiet away as possible, perhaps not without a hope, that something might turnup in the shape of a _causus belli_, that might justify him in adoptinga threatening attitude towards somebody. 

"Now, Master Henry, " said the admiral, "none of your palaver to me as wego along, recollect I don't belong to your party, you know. I've stoodfriend to two or three fellows in my time; but if anybody had said tome, 'Admiral Bell, the next time you go out on a quiet little shootingparty, it will be as second to a vampyre, ' I'd have said 'you're a liar'Howsomever, d--me, here you goes, and what I mean to say is this, MrHenry, that I'd second even a Frenchman rather than he shouldn't fightwhen he's asked"

"That's liberal of you, " said Henry, "at all event"

"I believe you it is, " said the admiral, "so mind if you don't hit him, I'm not a-going to tell you how--all you've got to do, is to fire low;but that's no business of mine. Shiver my timbers, I oughtn't to tellyou, but d--n you, hit him if you can. "

"Admiral, " said Henry, "I can hardly think you are even preserving aneutrality in the matter, putting aside my own partisanship as regardsyour own man. "

"Oh, hang him. I'm not going to let him creep out of the thing on such ashabby pretence. I can tell you. I think I ought to have gone to hishouse this morning; only, as I said I never would cross his thresholdagain, I won't. "

"I wonder if he'll come, " said Mr Marchdale to Henry. "After all, youknow he may take to flight, and shun an encounter which, it is evident, he has entered into but tardily. "

"I hope not, " said Henry, "and yet I must own that your supposition hasseveral times crossed my mind. If, however, he do not meet me, he nevercan appear at all in the country, and we should, at least, be rid ofhim, and all his troublesome importunities concerning the Hall. I wouldnot allow that man, on any account, to cross the threshold of my house, as its tenant or its owner. "

"Why, it ain't usual, " said the admiral, "to let ones house to twopeople at once, unless you seem quite to forget that I've taken yours. Imay as well remind you of it"

"Hurra" said Jack Pringle, at this moment. 

"What's the matter with you? Who told you to hurra?"

"Enemy in the offing, " said Jack, "three or four pints to the sou-west. "

"So he is, by Jove! dodging about among the trees. Come, now, thisvampyre's a decenter fellow than I thought him. He means, after all, tolet us have a pop at him"

They had now reached so close to the spot, that Sir Francis Varney, who, to all appearance, had been waiting, emerged from among the trees, rolled up in his dismal-looking cloak, and, if possible, looking longerand thinner than ever he had looked before. 

His face wore a singular cadaverous looking aspect. His very lips werewhite and there was a curious, pinkish-looking circle round each of hiseyes, that imparted to his whole countenance a most uninvitingappearance. He turned his eyes from one to the other of those who wereadvancing towards him, until he saw the admiral, upon which he gave sucha grim and horrible smile, that the old man exclaimed, --

"I say, Jack, you lubber, there's a face for a figure head. "

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"Did you ever see such a d----d grin as that in your life, in anylatitude?"

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"You did you swab. "

"I should think so. "

"It's a lie, and you know it. "

"Very good, " said Jack, "don't you recollect when that ere iron bulletwalked over your head, leaving a nice little nick, all the way offBergen-ap-Zoom, that was the time--blessed if you didn't give just sucha grin as that. "

"I didn't, you rascal. "

"And I say you did. "

"Mutiny, by God!"

"Go to blazes!"

How far this contention might nave gone, having now reached itsculminating point, had the admiral and Jack been alone, it is hard tosay; but as it was, Henry and Marchdale interfered, and so the quarrelwas patched up for the moment, in order to give place to more importantaffairs. 

Varney seemed to think, that after the smiling welcome he had given tohis second, he had done quite enough; for there he stood, tall, andgaunt, and motionless, if we may except an occasional singular movementof the mouth, and a clap together of his teeth, at times, which wasenough to make anybody jump to hear. 

"For Heaven's sake, " said Marchdale, "do not let us trifle at such amoment as this. Mr. Pringle, you really had no business here. "

"Mr. Who?" said Jack. 

"Pringle, I believe, is your name?" returned Marchdale. 

"It were; but blowed if ever I was called mister before. "

The admiral walked up to Sir Francis Varney, and gave him a nod thatlooked much more like one of defiance than of salutation, to which thevampyre replied by a low, courtly bow. 

"Oh, bother!" muttered the old admiral. "If I was to double up mybackbone like that, I should never get it down straight again. Well, all's right; you've come; that's all you could do, I suppose. "

"I am here, " said Varney, "and therefore it becomes a work ofsupererogation to remark that I've come. "

"Oh! does it? I never bolted a dictionary, and, therefore, I don't knowexactly what you mean. "

"Step aside with me a moment, Admiral Bell, and I will tell you what youare to do with me after I am shot, if such should be my fate. "

"Do with you! D----d if I'll do anything with you. "

"I don't expect you will regret me; you will eat. "

"Eat!"

"Yes, and drink as usual, no doubt, notwithstanding being witness to thedecease of a fellow-creature. "

"Belay there; don't call yourself a fellow-creature of mine; I ain't avampyre. "

"But there's no knowing what you may be; and now listen to myinstructions; for as you're my second, you cannot very well refuse to mea few friendly offices. Rain is falling. Step beneath this ancient tree, and I will talk to you. "

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

THE STORM AND THE FIGHT. -THE ADMIRAL'S REPUDIATION OF HIS PRINCIPAL. 

[Illustration]

"Well, " said the admiral, when they were fairly under the tree, upon theleaves of which the pattering rain might be heard falling: "well--whatis it?"

"If your young friend, Mr. Bannerworth, should chance to send apistol-bullet through any portion of my anatomy, prejudicial to theprolongation of my existence, you will be so good as not to interferewith anything I may have about me, or to make any disturbance whatever. "

"You may depend I sha'n't. "

"Just take the matter perfectly easy--as a thing of course. "

"Oh! I mean d----d easy. "

"Ha! what a delightful thing is friendship! There is a little knoll ormound of earth midway between here and the Hall. Do you happen to knowit? There is one solitary tree glowing near its summit--an orientallooking tree, of the fir tribe, which, fan-like, spreads its deep greenleaves; across the azure sky. "

"Oh! bother it; it's a d----d old tree, growing upon a little bit of ahill, I suppose you mean?"

"Precisely; only much more poetically expressed. The moon rises at aquarter past four to-night, or rather to-morrow, morning. "

"Does it?"

"Yes; and if I should happen to be killed, you will have me removedgently to this mound of earth, and there laid beneath this tree, with myface upwards; and take care that it is done before the moon rises. Youcan watch that no one interferes. "

"A likely job. What the deuce do you take me for? I tell you what it is, Mr. Vampyre, or Varney, or whatever's your name, if you should chance tobe hit, where-ever you chance to fall, there you'll lie. "

"How very unkind. "

"Uncommon, ain't it?"

"Well, well, since that is your determination, I must take care ofmyself in another way. I can do so, and I will. "

"Take care of yourself how you like, for all I care; I've come here tosecond you, and to see that, on the honour of a seaman, if you are putout of the world, it's done in a proper manner, that's all I have to dowith you--now you know. "

Sir Francis Varney looked after him with a strange kind of smile, as hewalked away to make the necessary preparation with Marchdale for theimmediate commencement of the contest. 

These were simple and brief. It was agreed that twelve paces should bemeasured out, six each way, from a fixed point; one six to be paced bythe admiral, and the other by Marchdale; then they were to draw lots, tosee at which end of this imaginary line Varney was to be placed; afterthis the signal for firing was to be one, two, three--fire!

A few minutes sufficed to complete these arrangements; the ground wasmeasured in the manner we have stated, and the combatants placed intheir respective positions, Sir Francis Varney occupying the same spotwhere he had at first stood, namely, that nearest to the little wood, and to his own residence. 

It is impossible that under such circumstances the bravest and thecalmest of mankind could fail to feel some slight degree of tremour oruneasiness; and, although we can fairly claim for Henry Bannerworth thathe was as truly courageous as any right feeling Christian man could wishto be, yet when it was possible that he stood within, as it were, ahair's breadth of eternity, a strange world of sensation and emotionsfound a home in his heart, and he could not look altogether undaunted onthat future which might, for all he knew to the contrary, be so close athand, as far as he was concerned. 

It was not that he feared death, but that he looked with a decentgravity upon so grave a change as that from this world to the next, andhence was it that his face was pale, and that he looked all the emotionwhich he really felt. 

This was the aspect and the bearing of a brave but not a reckless man;while Sir Francis Varney, on the other hand, seemed, now that he hadfairly engaged in the duel, to look upon it and its attendantcircumstances with a kind of smirking satisfaction, as if he were farmore amused than personally interested. 

This was certainly the more extraordinary after the manner in which hehad tried to evade the fight, and, at all events, was quite a sufficientproof that cowardice had not been his actuating motive in so doing. 

The admiral, who stood on a level with him, could not see the sort ofexpression he wore, or, probably, he would have been far from wellpleased; but the others did, and they found something inexpressiblydisagreeable in the smirking kind of satisfaction with which the vampyreseemed to regard now the proceedings. 

"Confound him, " whispered Marchdale to Henry, "one would think he wasquite delighted, instead, as we had imagined him, not well pleased, atthese proceedings; look how he grins. "

"It is no matter, " said Henry; "let him wear what aspect he may, if isthe same to me; and, as Heaven is my judge, I here declare, if I did notthink myself justified in so doing, I would not raise my hand againstthis man. "

"There can be no shadow of a doubt regarding your justification. Have athim, and Heaven protect you. "

"Amen!"

The admiral was to give the word to fire, and now he and Marshal havingstepped sufficiently on one side to be out of all possible danger fromany stray shot, he commenced repeating the signal, --

"Are you ready, gentlemen?--once. "

They looked sternly at each other, and each grasped his pistol. 

"Twice!"

Sir Francis Varney smiled and looked around him, as if the affair wereone of the most common-place description. 

"Thrice!"

Varney seemed to be studying the sky rather than attending to the duel. 

"Fire!" said the admiral, and one report only struck upon the ear. Itwas that from Henry's pistol. 

All eyes were turned upon Sir Francis Varney, who had evidently reservedhis fire, for what purpose could not be devised, except a murderous one, the taking of a more steady aim at Henry. 

Sir Francis, however, seemed in no hurry, but smiled significantly, andgradually raised the point of his weapon. 

"Did you hear the word, Sir Francis? I gave it loud enough, I am sure. Inever spoke plainer in my life; did I ever, Jack?"

"Yes, often, " said Jack Pringle; "what's the use of your asking suchyarns as them? you know you have done so often enough when you wantedgrog. "

"You d----d rascal, I'll--I'll have your back scored, I will. "

"So you will, when you are afloat again, which you never will be--you'repaid off, that's certain. "

"You lubberly lout, you ain't a seaman; a seaman would never mutinyagainst his admiral; howsomever, do you hear, Sir Francis, I'll give thematter up, if you don't pay some attention to me. "

Henry looked steadily at Varney, expecting every moment to feel hisbullet. Mr. Marchdale hastily exclaimed that this was not according tousage. 

Sir Francis Varney took no notice, but went on elevating his weapon;when it was perpendicular to the earth he fired in the air. 

"I had not anticipated this, " said Marchdale, as he walked to Henry. "Ithought he was taking a more deadly aim. "

"And I, " said Henry. 

"Ay, you have escaped, Henry; let me congratulate you. "

"Not so fast; we may fire again. "

"I can afford to do that, " he said, with a smile. 

"You should have fired, sir, according to custom, " said the admiral;"this is not the proper thing. "

"What, fire at your friend?"

"Oh, that's all very well! You are my friend for a time, vampyre as youare, and I intend you shall fire. "

"If Mr. Henry Bannerworth demands another fire, I have no objection toit, and will fire at him; but as it is I shall not do so, indeed, itwould be quite useless for him to do so--to point mortal weapons at meis mere child's play, they will not hurt me. "

"The devil they won't, " said the admiral. 

"Why, look you here, " said Sir Francis Varney, stepping forward andplacing his hand to his neckerchief; "look you here; if Mr. HenryBannerworth should demand another fire, he may do so with the samebullet. "

"The same bullet!" said Marchdale, stepping forward--"the same bullet!How is this?"

"My eyes, " said Jack; "who'd a thought it; there's a go! Wouldn't he dofor a dummy--to lead a forlorn hope, or to put among the boarders?"

"Here, " said Sir Francis, handing a bullet to Henry Bannerworth--"hereis the bullet you shot at me. "

Henry looked at it--it was blackened by powder; and then Marchdaleseized it and tried it in the pistol, but found the bullet fittedHenry's weapon. 

"By heavens, it is so!" he exclaimed, stepping back and looking atVarney from top to toe in horror and amazement. 

"D----e, " said the admiral, "if I understand this. Why Jack Pringle, youdog, here's a strange fish. "

"On, no! there's plenty on 'um in some countries. "

"Will you insist upon another fire, or may I consider you satisfied?"

"I shall object, " said Marchdale. "Henry, this affair must go nofurther; it would be madness--worse than madness, to fight upon suchterms. "

"So say I, " said the admiral. "I will not have anything to do with you, Sir Francis. I'll not be your second any longer. I didn't bargain forsuch a game as this. You might as well fight with the man in brassarmour, at the Lord Mayor's show, or the champion at a coronation. "

"Oh!" said Jack Pringle; "a man may as well fire at the back of ahalligator as a wamphigher. "

"This must be considered as having been concluded, " said Mr. Marchdale. 

"No!" said Henry. 

"And wherefore not?"

"Because I have not received his fire. "

"Heaven forbid you should. "

"I may not with honour quit the ground without another fire. "

"Under ordinary circumstances there might be some shadow of an excusefor your demand; but as it is there is none. You have neither honour norcredit to gain by such an encounter, and, certainly, you can gain noobject. "

"How are we to decide this affair? Am I considered absolved from theaccusation under which I lay, of cowardice?" inquired Sir FrancisVarney, with a cold smile. 

"Why, as for that, " said the admiral, "I should as soon expect creditfor fighting behind a wall, as with a man that I couldn't hit any morethan the moon. "

"Henry; let me implore you to quit this scene; it can do no good. "

At this moment, a noise, as of human voices, was heard at a distance;this caused a momentary pause, and, the whole party stood still andlistened. 

The murmurs and shouts that now arose in the distance were indistinctand confused. 

"What can all this mean?" said Marchdale; "there is something verystrange about it. I cannot imagine a cause for so unusual anoccurrence. "

"Nor I, " said Sir Francis Varney, looking suspiciously at HenryBannerworth. 

"Upon my honour I know neither what is the cause nor the nature of thesounds themselves. "

"Then we can easily see what is the matter from yonder hillock, " saidthe admiral; "and there's Jack Pringle, he's up there already. What's hetelegraphing about in that manner, I wonder?"

The fact was, Jack Pringle, hearing the riot, had thought that if he gotto the neighbouring eminence he might possibly ascertain what it wasthat was the cause of what he termed the "row, " and had succeeded insome degree. 

There were a number of people of all kinds coming out from the village, apparently armed, and shouting. Jack Pringle hitched up his trousers andswore, then took off his hat and began to shout to the admiral, as hesaid, --

"D----e, they are too late to spoil the sport. Hilloa! hurrah!"

"What's all that about, Jack?" inquired the admiral, as he came puffingalong. "What's the squall about?"

"Only a few horse-marines and bumboat-women, that have been startledlike a company of penguins. "

"Oh! my eyes! wouldn't a whole broadside set 'em flying, Jack?"

"Ay; just as them Frenchmen that you murdered on board the BigThunderer, as you called it. "

"I murder them, you rascal?"

"Yes; there was about five hundred of them killed. "

"They were only shot. "

"They were killed, only your conscience tells you it's uncomfortable. "

"You rascal--you villain! You ought to be keel-hauled and well payed. "

"Ay; you're payed, and paid off as an old hulk. "

"D----e--you--you--oh! I wish I had you on board ship, I'd make yourlubberly carcass like a union jack, full of red and blue stripes. "

"Oh! it's all very well; but if you don't take to your heels, you'llhave all the old women in the village a whacking on you, that's all Ihave to say about it. You'd better port your helm and about ship, oryou'll be keel-hauled. "

"D--n your--"

"What's the matter?" inquired Marchdale, as he arrived. 

"What's the cause of all the noise we have heard?" said Sir Francis;"has some village festival spontaneously burst forth among the rusticsof this place?"

"I cannot tell the cause of it, " said Henry Bannerworth; "but they seemto me to be coming towards this place. "

"Indeed!"

"I think so too, " said Marchdale. 

"With what object?" inquired Sir Francis Varney. 

"No peaceable one, " observed Henry; "for, as far I can observe, theystruck across the country, as though they would enclose something, orintercept somebody. "

"Indeed! but why come here?"

"If I knew that I could have at once told the cause. "

"And they appear armed with a variety of odd weapons, " observed SirFrancis; "they mean an attack upon some one! Who is that man with them?he seems to be deprecating their coming. "

"That appears to be Mr. Chillingworth, " said Henry; "I think that ishe. "

"Yes, " observed the admiral; "I think I know the build of that craft;he's been in our society before. I always know a ship as soon as I seeit. "

"Does you, though?" said Jack. 

"Yea; what do you mean, eh? let me hear what you've got to say againstyour captain and your admiral, you mutinous dog; you tell me, I say. "

"So I will; you thought you were fighting a big ship in a fog, and fireda dozen broadsides or so, and it was only the Flying Dutchman, or thedevil. "

"You infernal dog--"

"Well, you know it was; it might a been our own shadow for all I cantell. Indeed, I think it was. "

"You think!"

"Yes. "

"That's mutiny; I'll have no more to do with you, Jack Pringle; you'reno seaman, and have no respect for your officer. Now sheer off, or I'llcut your yards. "

"Why, as for my yards, I'll square 'em presently if I like, you oldswab; but as for leaving you, very well; you have said so, and you shallbe accommodated, d----e; however, it was not so when your nob was nearlyrove through with a boarding pike; it wasn't 'I'll have no more to dowith Jack Pringle' then, it was more t'other. "

"Well, then, why be so mutinous?"

"Because you aggrawates me. "

The cries of the mob became more distinct as they drew nearer to theparty, who began to evince some uneasiness as to their object. 

"Surely, " said Marchdale, "Mr. Chillingworth has not named anythingrespecting the duel that has taken place. "

"No, no. "

"But he was to have been here this morning, " said the admiral. "Iunderstood he was to be here in his own character of a surgeon, and yetI have not seen him; have any of you?"

"No, " said Henry. 

"Then here he comes in the character of conservator of the publicpeace, " said Varney, coldly; "however, I believe that his errand will beuseless since the affair is, I presume, concluded. "

"Down with the vampyre!"

"Eh!" said the admiral, "eh, what's that, eh? What did they say?"

"If you'll listen they'll tell you soon enough, I'll warrant. "

"May be they will, and yet I'd like to know now. "

Sir Francis Varney looked significantly at Marchdale, and then waitedwith downcast eyes for the repetition of the words. 

"Down with the vampyre!" resounded on all sides from the people who camerapidly towards them, and converging towards a centre. "Burn, destroy, and kill the vampyre! No vampyre; burn him out; down with him; killhim!"

[Illustration]

Then came Mr. Chillingworth's voice, who, with much earnestness, endeavoured to exhort them to moderation, and to refrain from violence. 

Sir Francis Varney became very pale agitated; he immediately turned, andtaking the least notice, he made for the wood, which lay between him andhis own house, leaving the people in the greatest agitation. 

Mr. Marchdale was not unmoved at this occurrence, but stood his groundwith Henry Bannerworth, the admiral, and Jack Pringle, until the mobcame very near to them, shouting, and uttering cries of vengeance, anddeath of all imaginable kinds that it was possible to conceive, againstthe unpopular vampyre. 

Pending the arrival of these infuriated persons, we will, in a fewwords, state how it was that so suddenly a set of circumstances aroseproductive of an amount of personal danger to Varney, such as, up tothat time, had seemed not at all likely to occur. 

We have before stated there was but one person out of the family of theBannerworths who was able to say anything of a positive characterconcerning the singular and inexplicable proceedings at the Hall; andthat that person was Mr. Chillingworth, an individual not at all likelyto become garrulous upon the subject. 

But, alas! the best of men have their weaknesses, and we much regret tosay that Mr. Chillingworth so far in this instance forgot that admirablediscretion which commonly belonged to him, as to be the cause of thepopular tumult which had now readied such a height. 

In a moment of thoughtlessness and confidence, he told his wife. Yes, this really clever man, from whom one would not have expected such apiece of horrible indiscretion, actually told his wife all about thevampyre. But such is human nature; combined with an amount of firmnessand reasoning power, that one would have thought to be invulnerablesafeguards, we find some weakness which astonishes all calculation. 

Such was this of Mr. Chillingworth's. It is true, he cautioned the ladyto be secret, and pointed to her the danger of making Varney the vampyrea theme for gossip; but he might as well have whispered to a hurricaneto be so good as not to go on blowing so, as request Mrs. Chillingworthto keep a secret. 

Of course she burst into the usual fervent declarations of "Who was sheto tell? Was she a person who went about telling things? When did shesee anybody? Not she, once in a blue moon;" and then, when Mr. Chillingworth went out, like the King of Otaheite, she invited theneighbours round about to come to take some tea. 

Under solemn promises of secrecy, sixteen ladies that evening were madeacquainted with the full and interesting particulars of the attack ofthe vampyre on Flora Bannerworth, and all the evidence inculpating SirFrancis Varney as the blood-thirsty individual. 

When the mind comes to consider that these sixteen ladies multipliedtheir information by about four-and-twenty each, we become quite lost ina sea of arithmetic, and feel compelled to sum up the whole by a candidassumption that in four-and-twenty hours not an individual in the wholetown was ignorant of the circumstances. 

On the morning before the projected duel, there was an unusual commotionin the streets. People were conversing together in little knots, andusing rather violent gesticulations. Poor Mr. Chillingworth! he alonewas ignorant of the causes of the popular commotion, and so he went tobed wondering that an unusual bustle pervaded the little market town, but not at all guessing its origin. 

Somehow or another, however, the populace, who had determined to make ademonstration on the following morning against the vampyre, thought ithighly necessary first to pay some sort of compliment to Mr. Chillingworth, and, accordingly, at an early hour, a great mob assembledoutside his house, and gave three terrific applauding shouts, whichroused him most unpleasantly from his sleep; and induced the greatestastonishment at the cause of such a tumult. 

Oh, that artful Mrs. Chillingworth! too well she knew what was thematter; yet she pretended to be so oblivious upon the subject. 

"Good God!" cried Mr. Chillingworth, as he started up in bed, "what'sall that?"

"All what?" said his wife. 

"All what! Do you mean to say you heard nothing?"

"Well, I think I did hear a little sort of something. "

"A little sort of something? It shook the house. "

"Well, well; never mind. Go to sleep again; it's no business of ours. "

"Yes; but it may be, though. It's all very well to say 'go to sleep. 'That happens to be a thing I can't do. There's something amiss. "

"Well, what's that to you?"

"Perhaps nothing; but, perhaps, everything. "

Mr. Chillingworth sprang from his bed, and began dressing, a processwhich he executed with considerable rapidity, and in which he was muchaccelerated by two or three supplementary shouts from the people below. 

Then, in a temporary lull, a loud voice shouted, --

"Down with the vampyre--down with the vampyre!"

The truth in an instant burst over the mind of Mr. Chillingworth; and, turning to his wife, he exclaimed, --

"I understand it now. You've been gossipping about Sir Francis Varney, and have caused all this tumult. "

"I gossip! Well, I never! Lay it on me; it's sure to be my fault. Imight have known that beforehand. I always am. "

"But you must have spoken of it. "

"Who have I got to speak to about it?"

"Did you, or did you not?"

"Who should I tell?"

Mr. Chillingworth was dressed, and he hastened down and entered thestreet with great desperation. He had a hope that he might be enabled todisperse the crowd, and yet be in time to keep his appointment at theduel. 

His appearance was hailed with another shout, for it was considered, ofcourse, that he had come to join in the attack upon Sir Francis Varney. He found assembled a much more considerable mob than he had imagined, and to his alarm he found many armed with all sorts of weapons ofoffence. 

"Hurrah!" cried a great lumpy-looking fellow, who seemed half mad withthe prospect of a disturbance. "Hurrah! here's the doctor, he'll tell usall about it as we go along. Come on. "

"For Heaven's sake, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "stop; What are you aboutto do all of you?"

"Burn the vampyre--burn the vampyre!"

"Hold--hold! this is folly. Let me implore you all to return to yourhomes, or you will get into serious trouble on this subject. "

This was a piece of advice not at all likely to be adopted; and when themob found that Mr. Chillingworth was not disposed to encourage andcountenance it in its violence, it gave another loud shout of defiance, and moved off through the long straggling streets of the town in adirection towards Sir Francis Varney's house. 

It is true that what were called the authorities of the town had becomealarmed, and were stirring, but they found themselves in such afrightful minority, that it became out of the question for them tointerfere with any effect to stop the lawless proceedings of therioters, so that the infuriated populace had it all their own way, andin a straggling, disorderly-looking kind of procession they moved off, vowing vengeance as they went against Varney the vampyre. 

Hopeless as Mr. Chillingworth thought it was to interfere with anydegree of effect in the proceedings of the mob, he still could notreconcile it to himself to be absent from a scene which he now feltcertain had been produced by his own imprudence, so he went on with thecrowd, endeavouring, as he did so, by every argument that could besuggested to him to induce them to abstain from the acts of violencethey contemplated. He had a hope, too, that when they reached SirFrancis Varney's, finding him not within, as probably would be the case, as by that time he would have started to meet Henry Bannerworth on theground, to fight the duel, he might induce the mob to return and foregotheir meditated violence. 

And thus was it that, urged on by a multitude of persons, the unhappysurgeon was expiating, both in mind and person, the serious mistakes hehad committed in trusting a secret to his wife. 

Let it not be supposed that we for one moment wish to lay down a generalprinciple as regards the confiding secrets to ladies, because from thebeginning of the world it has become notorious how well they keep them, and with what admirable discretion, tact, and forethought this fairestportion of humanity conduct themselves. 

We know how few Mrs. Chillingworths there are in the world, and have butto regret that our friend the doctor should, in his matrimonialadventure, have met with such a specimen. 

CHAPTER XL. 

THE POPULAR RIOT. --SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S DANGER. --THE SUGGESTION AND ITSRESULTS. 

[Illustration]

Such, then, were the circumstances which at once altered the wholeaspect of the affairs, and, from private and domestic causes of verydeep annoyance, led to public results of a character which seemed likelyto involve the whole country-side in the greatest possible confusion. 

But while we blame Mr. Chillingworth for being so indiscreet as tocommunicate the secret of such a person as Varney the vampyre to hiswife, we trust in a short time to be enabled to show that he made asmuch reparation as it was possible to make for the mischief he hadunintentionally committed. And now as he struggled onward--apparentlyonward--first and foremost among the rioters, he was really doing all inhis power to quell that tumult which superstition and dread had raised. 

Human nature truly delights in the marvellous, and in proportion as aknowledge of the natural phenomena of nature is restricted, andunbridled imagination allowed to give the rein to fathomless conjecture, we shall find an eagerness likewise to believe the marvellous to be thetruth. 

That dim and uncertain condition concerning vampyres, originatingprobably as it had done in Germany, had spread itself slowly, butinsidiously, throughout the whole of the civilized world. 

In no country and in no clime is there not something which bears a kindof family relationship to the veritable vampyre of which Sir FrancisVarney appeared to be so choice a specimen. 

The _ghoul_ of eastern nations is but the same being, altered to suithabits and localities; and the _sema_ of the Scandinavians is but thevampyre of a more primitive race, and a personification of that morbidimagination which has once fancied the probability of the dead walkingagain among the living, with all the frightful insignia of corruptionand the grave about them. 

Although not popular in England, still there had been tales told of suchmidnight visitants, so that Mrs. Chillingworth, when she had impartedthe information which she had obtained, had already some rough materialto work upon in the minds of her auditors, and therefore there was nogreat difficulty in very soon establishing the fact. 

Under such circumstances, ignorant people always do what they have heardhas been done by some one else before them and in an incredibly shortspace of time the propriety of catching Sir Francis Varney, deprivinghim of his vampyre-like existence, and driving a stake through his body, became not at all a questionable proposition. 

Alas, poor Mr. Chillingworth! as well might he have attempted KingCanute's task of stemming the waves of the ocean as that of attemptingto stop the crowd from proceeding to Sir Francis Varney's house. 

His very presence was a sort of confirmation of the whole affair. Invain he gesticulated, in vain he begged and prayed that they would goback, and in vain he declared that full and ample justice should be doneupon the vampyre, provided popular clamour spared him, and he was leftto more deliberate judgment. 

Those who were foremost in the throng paid no attention to theseremonstrances while those who were more distant heard them not, and, forall they knew, he might be urging the crowd on to violence, instead ofdeprecating it. 

Thus, then, this disorderly rabble soon reached the house of Sir FrancisVarney and loudly demanded of his terrified servant where he was to befound. 

The knocking at the Hall door was prodigious, and, with a laudabledesire, doubtless, of saving time, the moment one was done amusinghimself with the ponderous knocker, another seized it; so that until thedoor was flung open by some of the bewildered and terrified men, therewas no cessation whatever of the furious demands for admittance. 

"Varney the vampyre--Varney the vampyre!" cried a hundred voices. "Deathto the vampyre! Where is he? Bring him out. Varney the vampyre!"

The servants were too terrified to speak for some moments, as they sawsuch a tumultuous assemblage seeking their master, while so singular aname was applied to him. At length, one more bold than the restcontrived to stammer out, --

"My good people, Sir Francis Varney is not at home. He took an earlybreakfast, and has been out nearly an hour. "

The mob paused a moment in indecision, and then one of the foremostcried, --

"Who'd suppose they'd own he was at home? He's hiding somewhere ofcourse; let's pull him out. "

"Ah, pull him out--pull him out!" cried many voices. A rush was madeinto the hall and in a very few minutes its chambers were ransacked, andall its hidden places carefully searched, with the hope of discoveringthe hidden form of Sir Francis Varney. 

The servants felt that, with their inefficient strength, to oppose theproceedings of an assemblage which seemed to be unchecked by all sort oflaw or reason, would be madness; they therefore only looked on, withwonder and dismay, satisfied certainly in their own minds that SirFrancis would not be found, and indulging in much conjecture as to whatwould be the result of such violent and unexpected proceedings. 

Mr. Chillingworth hoped that time was being gained, and that some sortof indication of what was going on would reach the unhappy object ofpopular detestation sufficiently early to enable him to provide for hisown safety. 

He knew he was breaking his own engagement to be present at the duelbetween Henry Bannerworth and Sir Francis Varney, and, as that thoughtrecurred to him, he dreaded that his professional services might berequired on one side or the other; for he knew, or fancied he knew, thatmutual hatred dictated the contest; and he thought that if ever a duelhad taken place which was likely to be attended with some disastrousresult, that was surely the one. 

But how could he leave, watched and surrounded as he was by aninfuriated multitude--how could he hope but that his footsteps would bedogged, or that the slightest attempt of his to convey a warning to SirFrancis Varney, would not be the means of bringing down upon his headthe very danger he sought to shield him from. 

In this state of uncertainty, then, did our medical man remain, a preyto the bitterest reflections, and full of the direst apprehensions, without having the slightest power of himself to alter so disastrous atrain of circumstances. 

Dissatisfied with their non-success, the crowd twice searched the houseof Sir Francis Varney, from the attics to the basement; and then, andnot till then, did they begin reluctantly to believe that the servantsmust have spoken the truth. 

"He's in the town somewhere, " cried one. "Let's go back to the town. "

It is strange how suddenly any mob will obey any impulse, and thisperfectly groundless supposition was sufficient to turn their steps backagain in the direction whence they came, and they had actually, in astraggling sort of column, reached halfway towards the town, when theyencountered a boy, whose professional pursuit consisted in tending sheepvery early of a morning, and who at once informed them that he had seenSir Francis Varney in the wood, half way between Bannerworth Hall andhis own home. 

This event at once turned the whole tide again, and with renewedclamours, carrying Mr. Chillingworth along with them, they now rapidlyneared the real spot, where, probably, had they turned a little earlier, they would have viewed the object of their suspicion and hatred. 

But, as we have already recorded, the advancing throng was seen by theparties on the ground, where the duel could scarcely have been said tohave been fought; and then had Sir Francis Varney dashed into the wood, which was so opportunely at hand to afford him a shelter from hisenemies, and from the intricacies of which--well acquainted with them ashe doubtless was, --he had every chance of eluding their pursuit. 

The whole affair was a great surprise to Henry and his friends, whenthey saw such a string of people advancing, with such shouts andimprecations; they could not, for the life of them, imagine what couldhave excited such a turn out among the ordinarily industrious and quietinhabitants of a town, remarkable rather for the quietude and steadinessof its population, than for any violent outbreaks of popular feeling. 

"What can Mr. Chillingworth be about, " said Henry, "to bring such a mobhere? has he taken leave of his senses?"

"Nay, " said Marchdale; "look again; he seems to be trying to keep themback, although ineffectually, for they will not be stayed. "

"D----e, " said the admiral, "here's a gang of pirates; we shall beboarded and carried before we know where we are, Jack. "

"Ay ay, sir, " said Jack. 

"And is that all you've got to say, you lubber, when you see youradmiral in danger? You'd better go and make terms with the enemy atonce. "

"Really, this is serious, " said Henry; "they shout for Varney. Can Mr. Chillingworth have been so mad as to adopt this means of stopping theduel?"

"Impossible, " said Marchdale; "if that had been his intention, he couldhave done so quietly, through the medium of the civil authorities. "

"Hang me!" exclaimed the admiral, "if there are any civil authorities;they talk of smashing somebody. What do they say, Jack? I don't hearquite so well as I used. "

"You always was a little deaf, " said Jack. 

"What?"

"A little deaf, I say. "

"Why, you lubberly lying swab, how dare you say so?"

"Because you was. "

"You slave-going scoundrel!"

"For Heaven's sake, do not quarrel at such a time as this!" said Henry;"we shall be surrounded in a moment. Come, Mr. Marchdale, let you and Ivisit these people, and ascertain what it is that has so much excitedtheir indignation. "

"Agreed, " said Marchdale; and they both stepped forward at a rapid pace, to meet the advancing throng. 

The crowd which had now approached to within a short distance of theexpectant little party, was of a most motley description, and itsappearance, under many circumstances, would cause considerablerisibility. Men and women were mixed indiscriminately together, and inthe shouting, the latter, if such a thing were possible, exceeded theformer, both in discordance and energy. 

Every individual composing that mob carried some weapon calculated fordefence, such as flails, scythes, sickles, bludgeons, &c. , and this modeof arming caused them to wear a most formidable appearance; while thepassion that superstition had called up was strongly depicted in theirinflamed features. Their fury, too, had been excited by theirdisappointment, and it was with concentrated rage that they now pressedonward. 

The calm and steady advance of Henry and Mr. Marchdale to meet theadvancing throng, seemed to have the effect of retarding their progressa little, and they came to a parley at a hedge, which separated themfrom the meadow in which the duel had been fought. 

"You seem to be advancing towards us, " said Henry. "Do you seek me orany of my friends; and if so, upon what errand? Mr. Chillingworth, forHeaven's sake, explain what is the cause of all this assault. You seemto be at the head of it. "

"Seem to be, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "without being so. You are notsought, nor any of your friends?"

"Who, then?"

"Sir Francis Varney, " was the immediate reply. 

"Indeed! and what has he done to excite popular indignation? of privatewrong I can accuse him; but I desire no crowd to take up my cause, or toavenge my quarrels. "

"Mr. Bannerworth, it has become known, through my indiscretion, that SirFrances Varney is suspected of being a vampyre. "

"Is this so?"

"Hurrah!" shouted the mob. "Down with the vampyre! hurrah! where is he?Down with him!"

"Drive a stake through him, " said a woman; "it's the only way, and thehumanest. You've only to take a hedge stake and sharpen it a bit at oneend, and char it a little in the fire so as there mayt'n't be nosplinters to hurt, and then poke it through his stomach. "

The mob gave a great shout at this humane piece of advice, and it wassome time before Henry could make himself heard at all, even to thosewho were nearest to him. 

When he did succeed in so doing, he cried, with a loud voice, --

"Hear me, all of you. It is quite needless for me to inquire how youbecame possessed of the information that a dreadful suspicion hangs overthe person of Sir Francis Varney; but if, in consequence of hearing suchnews, you fancy this public demonstration will be agreeable to me, orlikely to relieve those who are nearest or dearest to me from the stateof misery and apprehension into which they have fallen, you are muchmistaken. "

"Hear him, hear him!" cried Mr. Marchdale; "he speaks both wisdom andtruth. "

"If anything, " pursued Henry, "could add to the annoyance of vexationand misery we have suffered, it would assuredly be the being madesubjects of every-day gossip, and every-day clamour. "

"You hear him?" said Mr. Marchdale. 

"Yes, we does, " said a man; "but we comes out to catch a vampyre, forall that. "

"Oh, to be sure, " said the humane woman; "nobody's feelings is nothingto us. Are we to be woke up in the night with vampyres sucking ourbloods while we've got a stake in the country?"

"Hurrah!" shouted everybody. "Down with the vampyre! where is he?"

"You are wrong. I assure you, you are all wrong, " said Mr. Chillingworth, imploringly; "there is no vampyre here, you see. SirFrancis Varney has not only escaped, but he will take the law of all ofyou. "

This was an argument which appeared to stagger a few, but the bolderspirits pushed them on, and a suggestion to search the wood having beenmade by some one who was more cunning than his neighbours, that measurewas at once proceeded with, and executed in a systematic manner, whichmade those who knew it to be the hiding-place of Sir Francis Varneytremble for his safety. 

It was with a strange mixture of feeling that Henry Bannerworth waitedthe result of the search for the man who but a few minutes before hadbeen opposed to him in a contest of life or death. 

The destruction of Sir Francis Varney would certainly have been aneffectual means of preventing him from continuing to be the incubus hethen was upon the Bannerworth family; and yet the generous nature ofHenry shrank with horror from seeing even such a creature as Varneysacrificed at the shrine of popular resentment, and murdered by aninfuriated populace. 

He felt as great an interest in the escape of the vampyre as if somegreat advantage to himself bad been contingent upon such an event; and, although he spoke not a word, while the echoes of the little wood wereall awakened by the clamorous manner in which the mob searched for theirvictim, his feelings could be well read upon his countenance. 

The admiral, too, without possessing probably the fine feelings of HenryBannerworth, took an unusually sympathetic interest in the fate of thevampyre; and, after placing himself in various attitudes of intenseexcitement, he exclaimed, --

"D--n it, Jack, I do hope, after all, the vampyre will get the better ofthem. It's like a whole flotilla attacking one vessel--a lubberlyproceeding at the best, and I'll be hanged if I like it. I should liketo pour in a broadside into those fellows, just to let them see itwasn't a proper English mode of fighting. Shouldn't you, Jack?"

"Ay, ay, sir, I should. "

"Shiver me, if I see an opportunity, if I don't let some of thoserascals know what's what. "

Scarcely had these words escaped the lips of the old admiral than therearose a loud shout from the interior of the wood. It was a shout ofsuccess, and seemed at the very least to herald the capture of theunfortunate Varney. 

"By Heaven!" exclaimed Henry, "they have him. "

"God forbid!" said Mr. Marchdale; "this grows too serious. "

"Bear a hand, Jack, " said the admiral: "we'll have a fight for it yet;they sha'n't murder even a vampyre in cold blood. Load the pistols andsend a flying shot or two among the rascals, the moment they appear. "

"No, no, " said Henry; "no more violence, at least there has beenenough--there has been enough. "

Even as he spoke there came rushing from among the trees, at the cornerof the wood, the figure of a man. There needed but one glance to assurethem who it was. Sir Francis Varney had been seen, and was flying beforethose implacable foes who had sought his life. 

He had divested himself of his huge cloak, as well as of his lowslouched hat, and, with a speed which nothing but the most absolutedesperation could have enabled him to exert, he rushed onward, beatingdown before him every obstacle, and bounding over the meadows at a ratethat, if he could have continued it for any length of time, would haveset pursuit at defiance. 

"Bravo!" shouted the admiral, "a stern chase is a long chase, and I wishthem joy of it--d----e, Jack, did you ever see anybody get along likethat?"

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"You never did, you scoundrel. "

"Yes, I did. "

"When and where?"

"When you ran away off the sound. "

The admiral turned nearly blue with anger, but Jack looked perfectlyimperturbable, as he added, --

"You know you ran away after the French frigates who wouldn't stay tofight you. "

"Ah! that indeed. There he goes, putting on every stitch of canvass, I'll be bound. "

"And there they come, " said Jack, as he pointed to the corner of thewood, and some of the more active of the vampyre's pursuers showedthemselves. 

It would appear as if the vampyre had been started from somehiding-place in the interior of the wood, and had then thought itexpedient altogether to leave that retreat, and make his way to somemore secure one across the open country, where there would be moreobstacles to his discovery than perseverance could overcome. Probably, then, among the brushwood and trees, for a few moments he had been againlost sight of, until those who were closest upon his track had emergedfrom among the dense foliage, and saw him scouring across the country atsuch headlong speed. These were but few, and in their extreme anxietythemselves to capture Varney, whose precipate and terrified flightbrought a firm conviction to their minds of his being a vampyre, theydid not stop to get much of a reinforcement, but plunged on likegreyhounds in his track. 

"Jack, " said the admiral, "this won't do. Look at that great lubberlyfellow with the queer smock-frock. "

"Never saw such a figure-head in my life, " said Jack. 

"Stop him. "

"Ay, ay, sir. "

The man was coming on at a prodigious rate, and Jack, with all thedeliberation in the world, advanced to meet him; and when they gotsufficiently close together, that in a few moments they must encountereach other, Jack made himself into as small a bundle as possible, andpresented his shoulder to the advancing countryman in such a way, thathe flew off it at a tangent, as if he had run against a brick wall, andafter rolling head over heels for some distance, safely depositedhimself in a ditch, where he disappeared completely for a few momentsfrom all human observation. 

"Don't say I hit you, " said Jack. "Curse yer, what did yer run againstme for? Sarves you right. Lubbers as don't know how to steer, in courseruns agin things. "

"Bravo, " said the admiral; "there's another of them. "

The pursuers of Varney the vampyre, however, now came too thick and fastto be so easily disposed of, and as soon as his figure could be seencoursing over the meadows, and springing over road and ditch with anagility almost frightful to look upon, the whole rabble rout was inpursuit of him. 

By this time, the man who had fallen into the ditch had succeeded inmaking his appearance in the visible world again, and as he crawled upthe bank, looking a thing of mire and mud, Jack walked up to him withall the carelessness in the world, and said to him, --

"Any luck, old chap?"

"Oh, murder!" said the man, "what do you mean? who are you? where am I?what's the matter? Old Muster Fowler, the fat crowner, will set upon menow. "

"Have you caught anything?" said Jack. 

"Caught anything?"

"Yes; you've been in for eels, haven't you?"

"D--n!"

"Well, it is odd to me, as some people can't go a fishing withoutgetting out of temper. Have it your own way; I won't interfere withyou;" and away Jack walked. 

The man cleared the mud out of his eyes, as well as he could, and lookedafter him with a powerful suspicion that in Jack he saw the very causeof his mortal mishap: but, somehow or other, his immersion in the notover limpid stream had wonderfully cooled his courage, and casting onedespairing look upon his begrimed apparel, and another at the last ofthe stragglers who were pursuing Sir Francis Varney across the fields, he thought it prudent to get home as fast he could, and get rid of thedisagreeable results of an adventure which had turned out for himanything but auspicious or pleasant. 

Mr. Chillingworth, as though by a sort of impulse to be present in caseSir Francis Varney should really be run down and with a hope of savinghim from personal violence, had followed the foremost of the rioters inthe wood, found it now quite impossible for him to carry on such a chaseas that which was being undertaken across the fields after Sir FrancisVarney. 

His person was unfortunately but ill qualified for the continuance ofsuch a pursuit, and, although with the greatest reluctance, he at lastfelt himself compelled to give it up. 

In making his way through the intricacies of the wood, he had beenseriously incommoded by the thick undergrowth, and he had accidentallyencountered several miry pools, with which he had involuntarily made acloser acquaintance than was at all conducive either to his personalappearance or comfort. The doctor's temper, though, generally speaking, one of the most even, was at last affected by his mishaps, and he couldnot restrain from an execration upon his want of prudence in letting hiswife have a knowledge of a secret that was not his own, and theproducing an unlooked for circumstance, the termination of which mightbe of a most disastrous nature. 

Tired, therefore, and nearly exhausted by the exertions he had alreadytaken, he emerged now alone from the wood, and near the spot where stoodHenry Bannerworth and his friends in consultation. 

The jaded look of the surgeon was quite sufficient indication of thetrouble and turmoil he had gone through, and some expressions ofsympathy for his condition were dropped by Henry, to whom he replied, --

"Nay, my young friend, I deserve it all. I have nothing but my ownindiscretion to thank for all the turmoil and tumult that has arisenthis morning. "

"But to what possible cause can we attribute such an outrage?"

"Reproach me as much as you will, I deserve it. A man may prate of hisown secrets if he like, but he should be careful of those of otherpeople. I trusted yours to another, and am properly punished. "

"Enough, " said Henry; "we'll say no more of that, Mr. Chillingworth. What is done cannot be undone, and we had better spend our time inreflection of how to make the best of what is, than in uselesslamentation over its causes. What is to be done?"

"Nay, I know not. Have you fought the duel?"

"Yes; and, as you perceive, harmlessly. "

"Thank Heaven for that. "

"Nay, I had my fire, which Sir Francis Varney refused to return; so theaffair had just ended, when the sound of approaching tumult came uponour ears. "

[Illustration]

"What a strange mixture, " exclaimed Marchdale, "of feelings and passionsthis Varney appears to be. At one moment acting with the apparentgreatest malignity; and another, seeming to have awakened in his mind aromantic generosity which knows no bounds. I cannot understand him. "

"Nor I, indeed, " said Henry; "but yet I somehow tremble for his fate, and I seem to feel that something ought to be done to save him from thefearful consequences of popular feeling. Let us hasten to the town, andprocure what assistance we may: but a few persons, well organised andproperly armed, will achieve wonders against a desultory andill-appointed multitude. There may be a chance of saving him, yet, fromthe imminent danger which surrounds him. "

"That's proper, " cried the admiral. "I don't like to see anybody rundown. A fair fight's another thing. Yard arm and yard arm--stink potsand pipkins--broadside to broadside--and throw in your bodies, if youlike, on the lee quarter; but don't do anything shabby. What do youthink of it, Jack?"

"Why, I means to say as how if Varney only keeps on sail as he's beendoing, that the devil himself wouldn't catch him in a gale. "

"And yet, " said Henry, "it is our duty to do the best we can. Let us atonce to the town, and summons all the assistance in our power. Comeon--come on!"

His friends needed no further urging, but, at a brisk pace, they allproceeded by the nearest footpaths towards the town. 

It puzzled his pursuers to think in what possible direction Sir FrancisVarney expected to find sustenance or succour, when they saw howcuriously he took his flight across the meadows. Instead ofendeavouring, by any circuitous path, to seek the shelter of his ownhouse, or to throw himself upon the care of the authorities of the town, who must, to the extent of their power, have protected him, he struckacross the fields, apparently without aim or purpose, seemingly intentupon nothing but to distance his pursuers in a long chase, which mightpossibly tire them, or it might not, according to their or his powers ofendurance. 

We say this seemed to be the case, but it was not so in reality. SirFrancis Varney had a deeper purpose, and it was scarcely to be supposedthat a man of his subtle genius, and, apparently, far-seeing andreflecting intellect, could have so far overlooked the many dangers ofhis position as not to be fully prepared for some such contingency asthat which had just now occurred. 

Holding, as he did, so strange a place in society--living among men, andyet possessing so few attributes in common with humanity--he must allalong have felt the possibility of drawing upon himself popularviolence. 

He could not wholly rely upon the secrecy of the Bannerworth family, much as they might well be supposed to shrink from giving publicity tocircumstances of so fearfully strange and perilous a nature as thosewhich had occurred amongst them. The merest accident might, at anymoment, make him the town's talk. The overhearing of a few chance wordsby some gossiping domestic--some ebullition of anger or annoyance bysome member of the family--or a communication from some friend who hadbeen treated with confidence--might, at any time, awaken around him somesuch a storm as that which now raged at his heels. 

Varney the vampire must have calculated this. He must have felt thepossibility of such a state of things; and, as a matter of course, politicly provided himself with some place of refuge. 

After about twenty minutes of hard chasing across the fields, therecould be no doubt of his intentions. He had such a place of refuge; and, strange a one as it might appear, he sped towards it in as direct a lineas ever a well-sped arrow flew towards its mark. 

That place of refuge, to the surprise of every one, appeared to be theancient ruin, of which we have before spoken, and which was so wellknown to every inhabitant of the county. 

Truly, it seemed like some act of mere desperation for Sir FrancisVarney to hope there to hide himself. There remained within, of what hadonce been a stately pile, but a few grey crumbling walls, which thehunted have would have passed unheeded, knowing that not for one instantcould he have baffled his pursuers by seeking so inefficient a refuge. 

And those who followed hard and fast upon the track of Sir FrancisVarney felt so sure of their game, when they saw whither he wasspeeding, that they relaxed in their haste considerably, calling loudlyto each other that the vampire was caught at last, for he could beeasily surrounded among the old ruins, and dragged from amongst itsmoss-grown walls. 

In another moment, with a wild dash and a cry of exultation, he sprangout of sight, behind an angle, formed by what had been at one time oneof the principal supports of the ancient structure. 

Then, as if there was still something so dangerous about him, that onlyby a great number of hands could he be hoped to be secured, theinfuriated peasantry gathered in a dense circle around what theyconsidered his temporary place of refuge, and as the sun, which had nowclimbed above the tree tops, and dispersed, in a great measure, many ofthe heavy clouds of morning, shone down upon the excited group, theymight have been supposed there assembled to perform some superstitiousrite, which time had hallowed as an association of the crumbling ruinaround which they stood. 

By the time the whole of the stragglers, who had persisted in the chase, had come up, there might have been about fifty or sixty resolute men, each intent upon securing the person of one whom they felt, while inexistence, would continue to be a terror to all the weaker and dearerportions of their domestic circles. 

There was a pause of several minutes. Those who had come the fleetestwere gathering breath, and those who had come up last were looking totheir more forward companions for some information as to what hadoccurred before their arrival. 

All was profoundly still within the ruin, and then suddenly, as if bycommon consent, there arose from every throat a loud shout of"Down with the vampyre! down with the vampyre!"

The echoes of that shout died away, and then all was still as before, while a superstitious feeling crept over even the boldest. It wouldalmost seem as if they had expected some kind of response from SirFrancis Varney to the shout of defiance with which they had just greetedhim; but the very calmness, repose, and absolute quiet of the ruin, andall about it, alarmed them, and they looked the one at the other as ifthe adventure after all were not one of the pleasantest description, andmight not fall out so happily as they had expected. 

Yet what danger could there be? there were they, more than half ahundred stout, strong men, to cope with one; they felt convinced that hewas completely in their power; they knew the ruins could not hide him, and that five minutes time given to the task, would suffice to exploreevery nook and corner of them. 

And yet they hesitated, while an unknown terror shook their nerves, andseemingly from the very fact that they had run down their gamesuccessfully, they dreaded to secure the trophy of the chase. 

One bold spirit was wanting; and, if it was not a bold one that spoke atlength, he might be complimented as being comparatively such. It was onewho had not been foremost in the chase, perchance from want of physicalpower, who now stood forward, and exclaimed, --

"What are you waiting for, now? You can have him when you like. If youwant your wives and children to sleep quietly in their beds, you willsecure the vampyre. Come on--we all know he's here--why do you hesitate?Do you expect me to go alone and drag him out by the ears?"

Any voice would have sufficed to break the spell which bound them. Thisdid so; and, with one accord, and yells of imprecation, they rushedforward and plunged among the old walls of the ruin. 

Less time than we have before remarked would have enabled any one toexplore the tottering fabric sufficient to bring a conviction to theirminds that, after all, there might have been some mistake about thematter, and Sir Francis Varney was not quite caught yet. 

It was astonishing how the fact of not finding him in a moment, againroused all their angry feelings against him, and dispelled every feelingof superstitious awe with which he had been surrounded; rage gave placeto the sort of shuddering horror with which they had before contemplatedhis immediate destruction, when they had believed him to be virtuallywithin their very grasp. 

Over and over again the ruins were searched--hastily and impatiently bysome, carefully and deliberately by others, until there could be nodoubt upon the mind of every one individual, that somehow or somewherewithin the shadow of those walls, Sir Francis Varney had disappearedmost mysteriously. 

Then it would have been a strange sight for any indifferent spectator tohave seen how they shrunk, one by one, out of the shadow of those ruins;each seeming to be afraid that the vampyre, in some mysterious manner, would catch him if he happened to be the last within their sombreinfluence; and, when they had all collected in the bright, open space, some little distance beyond, they looked at each other and at the ruins, with dubious expressions of countenance, each, no doubt, wishing thateach would suggest something of a consolatory or practicable character. 

"What's to be done, now?" said one. 

"Ah! that's it, " said another, sententiously. "I'll be hanged if Iknow. "

"He's given us the slip, " remarked a third. 

"But he can't have given us the slip, " said one man, who wasparticularly famous for a dogmatical spirit of argumentation; "how is itpossible? he must be here, and I say he is here. "

"Find him, then, " cried several at once. 

"Oh! that's nothing to do with the argument; he's here, whether we findhim or not. "

One very cunning fellow laid his finger on his nose, and beckoned to acomrade to retire some paces, where he delivered himself of thefollowing very oracular sentiment:--

"My good friend, you must know Sir Francis Varney is here or he isn't. "

"Agreed, agreed. "

"Well, if he isn't here it's no use troubling our heads any more abouthim; but, otherwise, it's quite another thing, and, upon the whole, Imust say, that I rather think he is. "

All looked at him, for it was evident he was big with some suggestion. After a pause, he resumed, --

"Now, my good friends, I propose that we all appear to give it up, andto go away; but that some one of us shall remain and hide among theruins for some time, to watch, in case the vampyre makes his appearancefrom some hole or corner that we haven't found out. "

"Oh, capital!" said everybody. 

"Then you all agree to that?"

"Yes, yes. "

"Very good; that's the only way to nick him. Now, we'll pretend to giveit up; let's all of us talk loud about going home. "

They did all talk loud about going home; they swore that it was notworth the trouble of catching him, that they gave it up as a bad job;that he might go to the deuce in any way he liked, for all they cared;and then they all walked off in a body, when, the man who had made thesuggestion, suddenly cried, --

"Hilloa! hilloa!--stop! stop! you know one of us is to wait?"

"Oh, ay; yes, yes, yes!" said everybody, and still they moved on. 

"But really, you know, what's the use of this? who's to wait?"

That was, indeed, a knotty question, which induced a seriousconsultation, ending in their all, with one accord, pitching upon theauthor of the suggestion, as by far the best person to hide in the ruinsand catch the vampyre. 

They then all set off at full speed; but the cunning fellow, whocertainly had not the slightest idea of so practically carrying out hisown suggestion, scampered off after them with a speed that soon broughthim in the midst of the throng again, and so, with fear in their looks, and all the evidences of fatigue about them, they reached the town tospread fresh and more exaggerated accounts of the mysterious conduct ofVarney the vampyre. 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

VARNEY'S DANGER, AND HIS RESCUE. --THE PRISONER AGAIN, AND THESUBTERRANEAN VAULT. 

[Illustration]

We have before slightly mentioned to the reader, and not unadvisedly, the existence of a certain prisoner, confined in a gloomy dungeon, intowhose sad and blackened recesses but few and faint glimmering rays oflight ever penetrated; for, by a diabolical ingenuity, the narrowloophole which served for a window to that subterraneous abode was soconstructed, that, let the sun be at what point it might, during itsdiurnal course, but a few reflected beams of light could ever find theirway into that abode of sorrow. 

The prisoner--the same prisoner of whom we before spoke--is there. Despair is in his looks, and his temples are still bound with thosecloths, which seemed now for many days to have been sopped in blood, which has become encrusted in their folds. 

He still lives, apparently incapable of movement. How he has lived solong seems to be a mystery, for one would think him scarcely in a state, even were nourishment placed to his lips, to enable him to swallow it. 

It may be, however, that the mind has as much to do with that apparentabsolute prostration of all sort of physical energy as those bodilywounds which he has received at the hands of the enemies who havereduced him to his present painful and hopeless situation. 

Occasionally a low groan burst from his lips; it seems to come from thevery bottom of his heart, and it sounds as if it would carry with itevery remnant of vitality that was yet remaining to him. 

Then he moves restlessly, and repeats in hurried accents the names ofsome who are dear to him, and far away--some who may, perchance, bemourning him, but who know not, guess not, aught of his presentsufferings. 

As he thus moves, the rustle of a chain among the straw on which he liesgives an indication, that even in that dungeon it has not beenconsidered prudent to leave him master of his own actions, lest, by toovigorous an effort, he might escape from the thraldom in which he isheld. 

The sound reaches his own ears, and for a few moments, in the deepimpatience of his wounded spirit, he heaps malediction on the heads ofthose who have reduced him to his present state. 

But soon a better nature seems to come over him, and gentler words fallfrom his lips. He preaches patience to himself--he talks not of revenge, but of justice, and in accents of more hopefulness than he had beforespoken, he calls upon Heaven to succour him in his deep distress. 

Then all is still, and the prisoner appears to have resigned himselfonce more to the calmness of expectation or of despair; but hark! hissense of hearing, rendered doubly acute by lying so long alone in nearlydarkness, and in positive silence, detects sounds which, to ordinarymortal powers of perception, would have been by far too indistinct toproduce any tangible effect upon the senses. 

It is the sound of feet--on, on they come; far overhead he hears them;they beat the green earth--that sweet, verdant sod, which he may neversee again--with an impatient tread. Nearer and nearer still; and nowthey pause; he listens with all the intensity of one who listens forexistence; some one comes; there is a lumbering noise--a hasty footstep;he hears some one labouring for breath--panting like a hunted hare; hisdungeon door is opened, and there totters in a man, tall and gaunt; hereels like one intoxicated; fatigue has done more than the work ofinebriation; he cannot save himself, and he sinks exhausted by the sideof that lonely prisoner. 

The captive raises himself as far as his chains will allow him; heclutches the throat of his enervated visitor. 

"Villain, monster, vampyre!" he shrieks, "I have thee now;" and lockedin a deadly embrace, they roll upon the damp earth, struggling for lifetogether. 

 * * * * *

It is mid-day at Bannerworth Hall, and Flora is looking from thecasement anxiously expecting the arrival of her brothers. She had seen, from some of the topmost windows of the Hall, that the wholeneighbourhood had been in a state of commotion, but little did she guessthe cause of so much tumult, or that it in any way concerned her. 

She had seen the peasantry forsaking their work in the fields and thegardens, and apparently intent upon some object of absorbing interest;but she feared to leave the house, for she had promised Henry that shewould not do so, lest the former pacific conduct of the vampyre shouldhave been but a new snare, for the purpose of drawing her so far fromher home as to lead her into some danger when she should be far fromassistance. 

And yet more than once was she tempted to forget her promise, and toseek the open country, for fear that those she loved should beencountering some danger for her sake, which she would willingly eithershare with them or spare them. 

The solicitation, however, of her brother kept her comparatively quiet;and, moreover, since her last interview with Varney, in which, at allevents, he had shown some feeling for the melancholy situation to which, he had reduced her, she had been more able to reason calmly, and to meetthe suggestions of passion and of impulse with a sober judgment. 

About midday, then, she saw the domestic party returning--that party, which now consisted of her two brothers, the admiral, Jack Pringle, andMr. Chillingworth. As for Mr. Marchdale, he had given them a politeadieu on the confines of the grounds of Bannerworth Hall, stating, thatalthough he had felt it to be his duty to come forward and second HenryBannerworth in the duel with the vampyre, yet that circumstance by nomeans obliterated from his memory the insults he had received fromAdmiral Bell, and, therefore, he declined going to Bannerworth Hall, andbade them a very good morning. 

To all this, Admiral Bell replied that he might go and be d----d, if heliked, and that he considered him a swab and a humbug, and appealed toJack Pringle whether he, Jack, ever saw such a sanctified looking prigin his life. 

"Ay, ay, " says Jack. 

This answer, of course, produced the usual contention, which lasted themuntil they got fairly in the house, where they swore at each other to anextent that was enough to make any one's hair stand on end, until Henryand Mr. Chillingworth interfered, and really begged that they wouldpostpone the discussion until some more fitting opportunity. 

The whole of the circumstances were then related to Flora; who, whileshe blamed her brother much for fighting the duel with the vampyre, found in the conduct of that mysterious individual, as regarded theencounter, yet another reason for believing him to be strictly sincerein his desire to save her from the consequences of his future visits. 

Her desire to leave Bannerworth Hall consequently became more and moreintense, and as the admiral really now considered himself the master ofthe house, they offered no amount of opposition to the subject, butmerely said, --

"My dear Flora, Admiral Bell shall decide in all these matters, now. Weknow that he is our sincere friend; and that whatever he says we oughtto do, will be dictated by the best possible feelings towards us. "

"Then I appeal to you, sir, " said Flora, turning to the admiral. 

"Very good, " replied the old man; "then I say--"

"Nay, admiral, " interrupted Mr. Chillingworth; "you promised me, but ashort time since, that you would come to no decision whatever upon thisquestion, until you had heard some particulars which I have to relate toyou, which, in my humble opinion, will sway your judgment. "

"And so I did, " cried the admiral; "but I had forgotten all about it. Flora, my dear, I'll be with you in an hour or two. My friend, thedoctor, here, has got some sow by the ear, and fancies it's the rightone; however, I'll hear what he has got to say, first, before we come toa conclusion. So, come along, Mr. Chillingworth, and let's have it outat once. "

"Flora, " said Henry, when the admiral had left the room, "I can see thatyou wish to leave the Hall. "

"I do, brother; but not to go far--I wish rather to hide from Varneythan to make myself inaccessible by distance. "

"You still cling to this neighbourhood?"

"I do, I do; and you know with what hope I cling to it. "

"Perfectly; you still think it possible that Charles Holland may beunited to you. "

"I do, I do. "

"You believe his faith. "

"Oh, yes; as I believe in Heaven's mercy. "

"And I, Flora; I would not doubt him now for worlds; something even nowseems to whisper to me that a brighter sun of happiness will yet dawnupon us, and that, when the mists which at present enshroud ourselvesand our fortunes pass away, they will disclose a landscape full ofbeauty, the future of which shall know no pangs. "

"Yes, brother, " exclaimed Flora, enthusiastically; "this, after all, maybe but some trial, grievous while it lasts, but yet tending eventuallyonly to make the future look more bright and beautiful. Heaven may yethave in store for us all some great happiness, which shall springclearly and decidedly from out these misfortunes. "

"Be it so, and may we ever thus banish despair by such hopefulpropositions. Lean on my arm, Flora; you are safe with me. Come, dearest, and taste the sweetness of the morning air. "

There was, indeed now, a hopefulness about the manner in which HenryBannerworth spoke, such as Flora had not for some weary months had thepleasure of listening to, and she eagerly rose to accompany him into thegarden, which was glowing with all the beauty of sunshine, for the dayhad turned out to be much finer than the early morning had at allpromised it would be. 

"Flora, " he said, when they had taken some turns to and fro in thegarden, "notwithstanding all that has happened, there is no convincingMr. Chillingworth that Sir Francis Varney is really what to us heappears. "

"Indeed!"

"It is so. In the face of all evidence, he neither will believe invampyres at all, nor that Varney is anything but some mortal man, likeourselves, in his thoughts, talents, feelings, and modes of life; andwith no more power to do any one an injury than we have. "

"Oh, would that I could think so!"

"And I; but, unhappily, we have by far too many, and too conclusiveevidences to the contrary. "

"We have, indeed, brother. "

"And though, while we respect that strength of mind in our friend whichwill not allow him, even almost at the last extremity, to yield to whatappear to be stern facts, we may not ourselves be so obdurate, but mayfeel that we know enough to be convinced. "

"You have no doubt, brother?"

"Most reluctantly, I must confess, that I feel compelled to considerVarney as something more than mortal. "

"He must be so. "

"And now, sister, before we leave the place which has been a home to usfrom earliest life, let us for a few moments consider if there be anypossible excuse for the notion of Mr. Chillingworth, to the effect thatSir Francis Varney wants possession of the house for some purpose stillmore inimical to our peace and prosperity than any he has yetattempted. "

"Has he such an opinion?"

"He has. "

"'Tis very strange. "

"Yes, Flora; he seems to gather from all the circumstances, nothing butan overwhelming desire on the part of Sir Francis Varney to become thetenant of Bannerworth Hall. "

"He certainly wishes to possess it. "

"Yes; but can you, sister, in the exercise of any possible amount offancy, imagine any motive for such an anxiety beyond what he alleges?"

"Which is merely that he is fond of old houses. "

"Precisely so. That is the reason, and the only one, that can be gotfrom him. Heaven only knows if it be the true one. "

"It may be, brother. "

"As you say, it may; but there's a doubt, nevertheless, Flora. I muchrejoice that you have had an interview with this mysterious being, foryou have certainty, since that time, been happier and more composed thanI ever hoped to see you again. "

"I have indeed. "

"It is sufficiently perceivable. "

"Somehow, brother, since that interview, I have not had the same sort ofdread of Sir Francis Varney which before made the very sound of his namea note of terror to me. His words, and all he said to me during thatinterview which took place so strangely between us, indeed how I knownot, tended altogether rather to make him, to a certain extent, anobject of my sympathies rather than my abhorrence. "

"That is very strange. "

"I own that it is strange, Henry; but when we come for but a briefmoment to reflect upon the circumstances which have occurred, we shall, I think, be able to find some cause even to pity Varney the vampyre. "

"How?"

"Thus, brother. It is said--and well may I who have been subject to anattack of such a nature, tremble to repeat the saying--that those whohave been once subject to the visitations of a vampyre, are themselvesin a way to become one of the dreadful and maddening fraternity. "

"I have heard so much, sister, " replied Henry. 

"Yes; and therefore who knows but that Sir Francis Varney may, at onetime, have been as innocent as we are ourselves of the terrible andfiendish propensity which now makes him a terror and a reproach to allwho know him, or are in any way obnoxious to his attacks. "

"That is true. "

"There may have been a time--who shall say there was not?--when he, likeme, would have shrunk, with a dread as great as any one could haveexperienced, from the contamination of the touch even of a vampyre. "

"I cannot, sister, deny the soundness of your reasoning, " said Henry, with a sigh; "but I still no not see anything, even from a fullconviction that Varney is unfortunate, which should induce us totolerate him. "

"Nay, brother, I said not tolerate. What I mean is, that even with thehorror and dread we must naturally feel at such a being, we may affordto mingle some amount of pity, which shall make us rather seek to shunhim, than to cross his path with a resolution of doing him an injury. "

"I perceive well, sister, what you mean. Rather than remain here, andmake an attempt to defy Sir Francis Varney, you would fly from him, andleave him undisputed master of the field. "

"I would--I would. "

"Heaven forbid that I or any one should thwart you. You know well, Flora, how dear you are to me; you know well that your happiness hasever been to us all a matter which has assumed the most important ofshapes, as regarded our general domestic policy. It is not, therefore, likely now, dear sister, that we should thwart you in your wish toremove from here. "

"I know, Henry, all you would say, " remarked Flora, as a tear started toher eyes. "I know well all you think, and, in your love for me, Ilikewise know well I rely for ever. You are attached to this place, as, indeed, we all are, by a thousand happy and pleasant associations; butlisten to me further, Henry, I do not wish to wander far. "

"Not far, Flora?"

"No. Do I not still cling to a hope that Charles may yet appear? and ifhe do so, it will assuredly be in this neighbourhood, which he knows isnative and most dear to us all. "

"True. "

"Then do I wish to make some sort of parade, in the way of publicity, ofour leaving the Hall. "

"Yes, yes. "

"And yet not go far. In the neighbouring town, for example, surely wemight find some means of living entirely free from remark or observationas to who or what we were. "

"That, sister, I doubt. If you seek for that species of solitude whichyou contemplate, it is only to be found in a desert. "

"A desert?"

"Yes; or in a large city. "

"Indeed!"

"Ay, Flora; you may well believe me, that it is so. In a small communityyou can have no possible chance of evading an amount of scrutiny whichwould very soon pierce through any disguise you could by any possibilityassume. "

"Then there is no resource. We must go far. "

"Nay, I will consider for you, Flora; and although, as a generalprinciple, what I have said I know to be true, yet some more specialcircumstance may arise that may point a course that, while it enablesus, for Charles Holland's sake, to remain in this immediateneighbourhood, yet will procure to us all the secrecy we may desire. "

"Dear--dear brother, " said Flora, as she flung herself upon Henry'sneck, "you speak cheeringly to me, and, what is more, you believe inCharles's faithfulness and truth. "

"As Heaven is my judge, I do. "

"A thousand, thousand thanks for such an assurance. I know him too wellto doubt, for one moment, his faith. Oh, brother! could he--couldCharles Holland, the soul of honour, the abode of every noble impulsethat can adorn humanity--could he have written those letters? No, no!perish the thought!"

"It has perished. "

"Thank God!"

"I only, upon reflection, wonder how, misled for the moment by theconcurrence of a number of circumstances, I could ever have suspectedhim. "

"It is like your generous nature, brother to say so; but you know aswell as I, that there has been one here who has, far from feeling anysort of anxiety to think as well as possible of poor Charles Holland, has done all that in him lay to take the worst view of his mysteriousdisappearance, and induce us to do the like. "

"You allude to Mr. Marchdale?"

"I do. "

"Well, Flora, at the same time that I must admit you have cause forspeaking of Mr. Marchdale as you do, yet when we come to consider allthings, there may be found for him excuses. "

"May there?"

"Yes, Flora; he is a man, as he himself says, past the meridian of life, and the world is a sad as well as a bad teacher, for it soon--too soon, alas! deprives us of our trusting confidence in human nature. "

"It may be so; but yet, he, knowing as he did so very little of CharlesHolland, judged him hastily and harshly. "

"You rather ought to say, Flora, that he did not judge him generously. "

"Well, be it so. "

"And you must recollect, when you say so, that Marchdale did not loveCharles Holland. "

"Nay, now, " said Flora, while there flashed across her cheek, for amoment, a heightened colour, "you are commencing to jest with me, and, therefore, we will say no more. You know, dear Henry, all my hopes, mywishes, and my feelings, and I shall therefore leave my future destinyin your hands, to dispose of as you please. Look yonder!"

"Where?"

"There. Do you not see the admiral and Mr. Chillingworth walking amongthe trees?"

"Yes, yes; I do now. "

"How very serious and intent they are upon the subject of theirdiscourse. They seem quite lost to all surrounding objects. I could nothave imagined any subject that would so completely have absorbed theattention of Admiral Bell. "

"Mr. Chillingworth had something to relate to him or to propose, of anature which, perchance, has had the effect of enchaining all hisattention--he called him from the room. "

"Yes; I saw that he did. But see, they come towards us, and now weshall, probably, hear what is the subject-matter of their discourse andconsultation. "

"We shall. "

Admiral Bell had evidently seen Henry and his sister, for now, suddenly, as if not from having for the first moment observed them, and, inconsequence, broken off their private discourse, but as if they arrivedat some point in it which enabled them to come to a conclusion to becommunicative, the admiral came towards the brother and sister, "Well, " said the bluff old admiral, when they were sufficiently near toexchange words, "well, Miss Flora, you are looking a thousand timesbetter than you were. "

"I thank you, admiral, I am much better. "

"Oh, to be sure you are; and you will be much better still, and no sortof mistake. Now, here's the doctor and I have both been agreeing uponwhat is best for you. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, to be sure. Have we not, doctor?"

"We have, admiral. "

"Good; and what, now, Miss Flora, do you suppose it is?"

"I really cannot say. "

"Why, it's change of air, to be sure. You must get away from here asquickly as you can, or there will be no peace for you. "

"Yes, " added Mr. Chillingworth, advancing; "I am quite convinced thatchange of scene and change of place, and habits, and people, will tendmore to your complete recovery than any other circumstances. In the mostordinary cases of indisposition we always find that the invalid recoversmuch sooner away from the scene of his indisposition, than by remainingin it, even though its general salubrity be much greater than the placeto which he may be removed. "

"Good, " said the admiral. 

"Then we are to understand, " said Henry, with a smile, "that we are nolonger to be your guests, Admiral Bell?"

"Belay there!" cried the admiral; "who told you to understand any suchthing, I should like to know?"

"Well, but we shall look upon this house as yours, now; and, that beingthe case, if we remove from it, of course we cease to be your guests anylonger. "

"That's all you know about it. Now, hark ye. You don't command thefleet, so don't pretend to know what the admiral is going to do. I havemade money by knocking about some of the enemies of old England, andthat's the most gratifying manner in the world of making money, so faras I am concerned. "

[Illustration]

"It is an honourable mode. "

"Of course it is. Well, I am going to--what the deuce do you call it?"

"What?"

"That's just what I want to know. Oh, I have it now. I am going to whatthe lawyers call invest it. "

"A prudent step, admiral, and one which it is to be hoped, before now, has occurred to you. "

"Perhaps it has and perhaps it hasn't; however, that's my business, andno one's else's. I am going to invest my spare cash in taking houses;so, as I don't care a straw where the houses may be situated, you canlook out for one somewhere that will suit you, and I'll take it; so, after all, you will be my guests there just the same as you are here. "

"Admiral, " said Henry, "it would be imposing upon a generosity as rareas it is noble, were we to allow you to do so much for us as youcontemplate. "

"Very good. "

"We cannot--we dare not. "

"But I say you shall. So you have had your say, and I've had mine, afterwhich, if you please, Master Henry Bannerworth, I shall take upon myselfto consider the affair as altogether settled. You can commenceoperations as soon as you like. I know that Miss Flora, here--bless hersweet eyes--don't want to stay at Bannerworth Hall any longer than shecan help it. "

"Indeed I was urging upon Henry to remove, " said Flora; "but yet Icannot help feeling with him, admiral, that we are imposing upon yourgoodness. "

"Go on imposing, then. "

"But--"

"Psha! Can't a man be imposed upon if he likes? D--n it, that's a poorprivilege for an Englishman to be forced to make a row about. I tell youI like it. I will be imposed upon, so there's an end of that; and nowlet's come in and see what Mrs. Bannerworth has got ready for luncheon. "

 * * * * *

It can hardly be supposed that such a popular ferment as had beencreated in the country town, by the singular reports concerning Varneythe Vampyre, should readily, and without abundant satisfaction, subside. 

An idea like that which had lent so powerful an impulse to the popularmind, was one far easier to set going than to deprecate or extinguish. The very circumstances which had occurred to foil the excited mob intheir pursuit of Sir Francis Varney, were of a nature to increase thepopular superstition concerning him, and to make him and his acts appearin still more dreadful colours. 

Mobs do not reason very closely and clearly; but the very fact of thefrantic flight of Sir Francis Varney from the projected attack of theinfuriated multitude, was seized hold of as proof positive of thereality of his vampyre-like existence. 

Then, again, had he not disappeared in the most mysterious manner? Hadhe not sought refuge where no human being would think of seeking refuge, namely, in that old, dilapidated ruin, where, when his pursuers were soclose upon his track, he had succeeded in eluding their grasp with afacility which looked as if he had vanished into thin air, or as if thevery earth had opened to receive him bodily within its cold embraces?

It is not to be wondered at, that the few who fled so precipitately fromthe ruin, lost nothing of the wonderful story they had to tell, in thecarrying it from that place to the town. When they reached theirneighbours, they not only told what had really occurred, but they addedto it all their own surmises, and the fanciful creation of all their ownfears, so that before mid-day, and about the time when Henry Bannerworthwas conversing so quietly in the gardens of the Hall with his beautifulsister, there was an amount of popular ferment in the town, of whichthey had no conception. 

All business was suspended, and many persons, now that once the idea hadbeen started concerning the possibility that a vampyre might have beenvisiting some of the houses in the place, told how, in the dead of thenight, they had heard strange noises. How children had shrieked from noapparent cause--doors opened and shut without human agency; and windowsrattled that never had been known to rattle before. 

Some, too, went so far as to declare that they had been awakened out oftheir sleep by noises incidental to an effort made to enter theirchambers; and others had seen dusky forms of gigantic proportionsoutside their windows, tampering with their fastenings, and onlydisappearing when the light of day mocked all attempts at concealment. 

These tales flew from mouth to mouth, and all listened to them with suchan eager interest, that none thought it worth while to challenge theirinconsistencies, or to express a doubt of their truth, because they hadnot been mentioned before. 

The only individual, and he was a remarkably clever man, who made theslightest remark upon the subject of a practical character, hazarded asuggestion that made confusion worse confounded. 

He knew something of vampyres. He had travelled abroad, and had heard ofthem in Germany, as well as in the east, and, to a crowd of wonderingand aghast listeners, he said, --

"You may depend upon it, my friends, this has been going on for sometime; there have been several mysterious and sudden deaths in the townlately; people have wasted away and died nobody knew how or wherefore. "

"Yes--yes, " said everybody. 

"There was Miles, the butcher; you know how fat he was, and then how fathe wasn't. "

A general assent was given to the proposition; and then, elevating onearm in an oratorical manner, the clever fellow continued, --

"I have not a doubt that Miles, the butcher, and every one else who hasdied suddenly lately, have been victims of the vampyre; and what's more, they'll all be vampyres, and come and suck other people's blood, till atlast the whole town will be a town of vampyres. "

"But what's to be done?" cried one, who trembled so excessively that hecould scarcely stand under his apprehension. 

"There is but one plan--Sir Francis Varney must be found, and put out ofthe world in such a manner that he can't come back to it again; and allthose who are dead that we have any suspicion of, should be taken up outof their graves and looked at, to see if they're rotting or not; if theyare it's all right; but, if they look fresh and much, as usual, you maydepend they're vampyres, and no mistake. "

This was a terrific suggestion thrown amongst a mob. To have caught SirFrancis Varney and immolated him at the shrine of popular fury, theywould not have shrunk from; but a desecration of the graves of thosewhom they had known in life was a matter which, however much it had torecommend it, even the boldest stood aghast at, and felt some qualms ofirresolution. 

There are many ideas, however, which, like the first plunge into a coldbath, are rather uncomfortable for the moment; but which, in a littletime, we become so familiarized with, that they become stripped of theirdisagreeable concomitants, and appear quite pleasing and natural. 

So it was with this notion of exhuming the dead bodies of thosetownspeople who had recently died from what was called a decay ofnature, and such other failures of vitality as bore not the tangiblename of any understood disease. 

From mouth to mouth the awful suggestion spread like wildfire, until atlast it grew into such a shape that it almost seemed to become a duty, at all events, to have up Miles the butcher, and see how he looked. 

There is, too, about human nature a natural craving curiosity concerningeverything connected with the dead. There is not a man of education orof intellectual endowment who would not travel many miles to look uponthe exhumation of the remains of some one famous in his time, whetherfor his vices, his virtues, his knowledge, his talents, or his heroism;and, if this feeling exist in the minds of the educated and refined in asublimated shape, which lends to it grace and dignity, we may look forit among the vulgar and the ignorant, taking only a grosser and meanerform, in accordance with their habits of thought. The rude materials, ofwhich the highest and noblest feelings of educated minds are formed, will be found amongst the most grovelling and base; and so this vulgarcuriosity, which, combined with other feelings, prompted an ignorant andilliterate mob to exhume Miles, the once fat butcher, in a differentform tempted the philosophic Hamlet to moralise upon the skull ofYorick. 

And it was wonderful to see how, when these people had made up theirminds to carry out the singularly interesting, but, at the same, fearful, suggestion, they assumed to themselves a great virtue in sodoing--told each other what an absolute necessity there was, for thepublic good, that it should be done; and then, with loud shouts andcries concerning the vampyre, they proceeded in a body to the villagechurchyard, where had been lain, with a hope of reposing in peace, thebones of their ancestors. 

A species of savage ferocity now appeared to have seized upon the crowd, and the people, in making up their minds to do something which wasstrikingly at variance with all their preconceived notions of right andwrong, appeared to feel that it was necessary, in order that they mightbe consistent, to cast off many of the decencies of life, and to becomeriotous and reckless. 

As they proceeded towards the graveyard, they amused themselves bybreaking the windows of the tax-gatherers, and doing what passingmischief they could to the habitations of all who held any officialsituation or authority. 

This was something like a proclamation of war against those who mightthink it their duty to interfere with the lawless proceedings of anignorant multitude. A public-house or two, likewise, _en route_, wassacked of some of its inebriating contents, so that, what with themadness of intoxication, and the general excitement consequent upon thevery nature of the business which took them to the churchyard, a morewild and infuriated multitude than that which paused at two iron gateswhich led into the sanctuary of that church could not be imagined. 

Those who have never seen a mob placed in such a situation as to havecast off all moral restraint whatever, at the same time that it feelsthere is no physical power to cope with it, can form no notion of themass of terrible passions which lie slumbering under what, in ordinarycases, have appeared harmless bosoms, but which now run riot, andovercame every principle of restraint. It is a melancholy fact, but, nevertheless, a fact, despite its melancholy, that, even in a civilisedcountry like this, with a generally well-educated population, nothingbut a well-organised physical force keeps down, from the commission ofthe most outrageous offences, hundreds and thousands of persons. 

We have said that the mob paused at the iron gates of the churchyard, but it was more a pause of surprise than one of vacillation, becausethey saw that those iron gates were closed, which had not been the casewithin the memory of the oldest among them. 

At the first building of the church, and the enclosure of its graveyard, two pairs of these massive gates had been presented by some munificentpatron; but, after a time, they hung idly upon their hinges, ornamentalcertainly, but useless, while a couple of turnstiles, to keep cattlefrom straying within the sacred precincts, did duty instead, andestablished, without trouble, the regular thoroughfare, which long habithad dictated as necessary, through the place of sepulture. 

But now those gates were closed, and for once were doing duty. Heavenonly knows how they had been moved upon their rusty and time-wornhinges. The mob, however, was checked for the moment, and it was clearthat the ecclesiastical authorities were resolved to attempt somethingto prevent the desecration of the tombs. 

Those gates were sufficiently strong to resist the first vigorous shakewhich was given to them by some of the foremost among the crowd, andthen one fellow started the idea that they might be opened from theinside, and volunteered to clamber over the wall to do so. 

Hoisted up upon the shoulders of several, he grasped the top of thewall, and raised his head above its level, and then something of amysterious nature rose up from the inside, and dealt him such a whackbetween the eyes, that down he went sprawling among his coadjutors. 

Now, nobody had seen how this injury had been inflicted, and the policyof those in the garrison should have been certainly to keep up themystery, and leave the invaders in ignorance of what sort of person itwas that had so foiled them. Man, however, is prone to indulge in vainglorification, and the secret was exploded by the triumphant waving ofthe long staff of the beadle, with the gilt knob at the end of it, justover the parapet of the wall, in token of victory. 

"It's Waggles! it's Waggles!" cried everybody "it's Waggles, thebeadle!"

"Yes, " said a voice from within, "it's Waggles, the beadle; and hethinks as he had yer there rather; try it again. The church isn't indanger; oh, no. What do you think of this?"

The staff was flourished more vigorously than ever, and in the secureposition that Waggles occupied it seemed not only impossible to attackhim, but that he possessed wonderful powers of resistance, for the staffwas long and the knob was heavy. 

It was a boy who hit upon the ingenious expedient of throwing up a greatstone, so that it just fell inside the wall, and hit Waggles a greatblow on the head. 

The staff was flourished more vigorously than ever, and the mob, in theecstasy at the fun which was going on, almost forgot the errand whichhad brought them. 

Perhaps after all the affair might have passed off jestingly, had notthere been some really mischievous persons among the throng who weredetermined that such should not be the case, and they incited themultitude to commence an attack upon the gates, which in a few momentsmust have produced their entire demolition. 

Suddenly, however, the boldest drew back, and there was a pause, as thewell-known form of the clergyman appeared advancing from the churchdoor, attired in full canonicals. 

"There's Mr. Leigh, " said several; "how unlucky he should be here. "

"What is this?" said the clergyman, approaching the gates. "Can Ibelieve my eyes when I see before me those who compose the worshippersat this church armed, and attempting to enter for the purpose ofviolence to this sacred place! Oh! let me beseech you, lose not amoment, but return to your homes, and repent of that which you havealready done. It is not yet too late; listen, I pray you, to the voiceof one with whom you have so often joined in prayer to the throne of theAlmighty, who is now looking upon your actions. "

This appeal was heard respectfully, but it was evidently very far fromsuiting the feelings and the wishes of those to whom it was addressed;the presence of the clergyman was evidently an unexpected circumstance, and the more especially too as he appeared in that costume which theyhad been accustomed to regard with a reverence almost amounting toveneration. He saw the favourable effect he had produced, and anxious tofollow it up, he added, --

"Let this little ebullition of feeling pass away, my friends; and, believe me, when I assure you upon my sacred word, that whatever groundthere may be for complaint or subject for inquiry, shall be fully andfairly met; and that the greatest exertions shall be made to restorepeace and tranquillity to all of you. "

"It's all about the vampyre!" cried one fellow--"Mr. Leigh, how shouldyou like a vampyre in the pulpit?"

"Hush, hush! can it be possible that you know so little of the works ofthat great Being whom you all pretend to adore, as to believe that hewould create any class of beings of a nature such as those you ascribeto that terrific word! Oh, let me pray of you to get rid of thesesuperstitions--alike disgraceful to yourselves and afflicting to me. "

The clergyman had the satisfaction of seeing the crowd rapidly thinningfrom before the gates, and he believed his exhortations were having allthe effect he wished. It was not until he heard a loud shout behind him, and, upon hastily turning, saw that the churchyard had been scaled atanother place by some fifty or sixty persons, that his heart sunk withinhim, and he began to feel that what he had dreaded would surely come topass. 

Even then he might have done something in the way of pacific exertion, but for the interference of Waggles, the beadle, who spoilt everything. 

CHAPTER XLV. 

THE OPEN GRAVES. --THE DEAD BODIES. --A SCENE OF TERROR. 

[Illustration]

We have said Waggles spoilt everything, and so he did, for before Mr. Leigh could utter a word more, or advance two steps towards the rioters, Waggles charged them staff in hand, and there soon ensued a riot of amost formidable description. 

A kind of desperation seemed to have seized the beadle, and certainly, by his sudden and unexpected attack, he achieved wonders. When, however, a dozen hands got hold of the staff, and it was wrenched from him, andhe was knocked down, and half-a-dozen people rolled over him, Waggleswas not near the man he had been, and he would have been very wellcontent to have lain quiet where he was; this, however, he was notpermitted to do, for two or three, who had felt what a weightyinstrument of warfare the parochial staff was, lifted him bodily fromthe ground, and canted him over the wall, without much regard to whetherhe fell on a hard or a soft place on the other side. 

This feat accomplished, no further attention was paid to Mr. Leigh, who, finding that his exhortations were quite unheeded, retired into thechurch with an appearance of deep affliction about him, and lockedhimself in the vestry. 

The crowd now had entire possession--without even the sort of controlthat an exhortation assumed over them--of the burying-ground, and soonin a dense mass were these desperate and excited people collected roundthe well-known spot where lay the mortal remains of Miles, the butcher. 

"Silence!" cried a loud voice, and every one obeyed the mandate, lookingtowards the speaker, who was a tall, gaunt-looking man, attired in asuit of faded black, and who now pressed forward to the front of thethrong. 

"Oh!" cried one, "it's Fletcher, the ranter. What does he do here?"

"Hear him! hear him!" cried others; "he won't stop us. "

"Yes, hear him, " cried the tall man, waving his arms about like thesails of a windmill. "Yes, hear him. Sons of darkness, you're allvampyres, and are continually sucking the life-blood from each other. Nowonder that the evil one has power over you all. You're as men who walkin the darkness when the sunlight invites you, and you listen to thewords of humanity when those of a diviner origin are offered to youracceptance. But there shall be miracles in the land, and even in thisplace, set apart with a pretended piety that is in itself most damnable, you shall find an evidence of the true light; and the proof that thosewho will follow me the true path to glory shall be found here withinthis grave. Dig up Miles, the butcher!"

"Hear, hear, hear, hurra!" said every body. "Mr. Fletcher's not such afool, after all. He means well. "

"Yes, you sinners, " said the ranter, "and if you find Miles, thebutcher, decaying--even as men are expected to decay whose mortaltabernacles are placed within the bowels of the earth--you shall gatherfrom that a great omen, and a sign that if you follow me you seek theLord; but I you find him looking fresh and healthy, as if the warm bloodwas still within his veins, you shall take that likewise as asignification that what I say to you shall be as the Gospel, and that bycoming to the chapel of the Little Boozlehum, ye shall achieve a greatsalvation. "

"Very good, " said a brawny fellow, advancing with a spade in his hand;"you get out of the way, and I'll soon have him up. Here goes, like blueblazes!"

The first shovelful of earth he took up, he cast over his head into theair, so that it fell in a shower among the mob, which of course raised ashout of indignation; and, as he continued so to dispose of thesuperfluous earth, a general row seemed likely to ensue. Mr. Fletcheropened his mouth to make a remark, and, as that feature of his face wasrather a capacious one, a descending lump of mould, of a clayeyconsistency, fell into it, and got so wedged among his teeth, that inthe process of extracting it he nearly brought some of those essentialportions of his anatomy with it. 

This was a state of things that could not last long, and he who had beenso liberal with his spadesful of mould was speedily disarmed, and yet hewas a popular favourite, and had done the thing so good-humouredly, thatnobody touched him. Six or eight others, who had brought spades andpickaxes, now pushed forward to the work, and in an incredibly shortspace of time the grave of Miles, the butcher, seemed to be very nearlyexcavated. 

Work of any kind or nature whatever, is speedily executed when done witha wish to get through it; and never, perhaps, within the memory of man, was a grave opened in that churchyard with such a wonderful celerity. The excitement of the crowd grew intense--every available spot fromwhich a view of the grave could be got, was occupied; for the last fewminutes scarcely a remark had been uttered, and when, at last, the spadeof one of those who were digging struck upon something that sounded likewood, you might have heard a pin drop, and each one there present drewhis breath more shortly than before. 

"There he is, " said the man, whose spade struck upon the coffin. 

Those few words broke the spell, and there was a general murmur, whileevery individual present seemed to shift his position in his anxiety toobtain a better view of what was about to ensue. 

The coffin now having been once found, there seemed to be an increasedimpetus given to the work; the earth was thrown out with a rapidity thatseemed almost the quick result of the working of some machine; and thoseclosest to the grave's brink crouched down, and, intent as they wereupon the progress of events, heeded not the damp earth that fell uponthem, nor the frail brittle and humid remains of humanity thatoccasionally rolled to their feet. 

It was, indeed, a scene of intense excitement--a scene which only wanteda few prominent features in its foreground of a more intellectual andhigher cast than composed the mob, to make it a fit theme for a painterof the highest talent. 

And now the last few shovelfuls of earth that hid the top of the coffinwere cast from the grave, and that narrow house which contained themortal remains of him who was so well known, while in life, to almostevery one then present, was brought to the gaze of eyes which never hadseemed likely to have looked upon him again. 

The cry was now for ropes, with which to raise the cumbrous mass; butthese were not to be had, no one thought of providing himself with suchappliances, so that by main strength, only, could the coffin be raisedto the brink. 

The difficulty of doing this was immense, for there was nothing tangibleto stand upon; and even when the mould from the sides was sufficientlycleared away, that the handles of the coffin could be laid hold of, theycame away immediately in the grasp of those who did so. 

But the more trouble that presented itself to the accomplishment of thedesigns of the mob, the more intent that body seemed upon carrying outto the full extent their original designs. 

Finding it quite impossible by bodily strength to raise the coffin ofthe butcher from the position in which it had got imbedded by excessiverains, a boy was hastily despatched to the village for ropes, and neverdid boy run with such speed before, for all his own curiosity wasexcited in the issue of an adventure, that to his young imagination wasappallingly interesting. 

As impatient as mobs usually are, they had not time, in this case, forthe exercise of that quality of mind before the boy came back with thenecessary means of exerting quite a different species of power againstthe butcher's coffin. 

Strong ropes were slid under the inert mass, and twenty hands at onceplied the task of raising that receptacle of the dead from what had beenpresumed to be its last resting-place. The ropes strained and creaked, and many thought that they would burst asunder sooner than raise theheavy coffin of the defunct butcher. 

It is singular what reasons people find for backing their opinion. 

"You may depend he's a vampyre, " said one, "or it wouldn't be sodifficult to get him out of the grave. "

"Oh, there can be no mistake about that, " said one; "when did a naturalChristian's coffin stick in the mud in that way?"

"Ah, to be sure, " said another; "I knew no good would come of his goingson; he never was a decent sort of man like his neighbours, and manyqueer things have been said of him that I have no doubt are true enough, if we did but know the rights of them. "

"Ah, but, " said a young lad, thrusting his head between the two who weretalking, "if he is a vampyre, how does he get out of his coffin of anight with all that weight of mould a top of him?"

One of the men considered for a moment, and then finding no rationalanswer occur to him, he gave the boy a box on the ear, saying, --

"I should like to know what business that is of yours? Boys, now-a-days, ain't like the boys in my time; they think nothing now of putting theirspokes in grown-up people's wheels, just as if their opinions were ofany consequence. "

Now, by a vigorous effort, those who were tugging at the ropes succeededin moving the coffin a little, and that first step was all thedifficulty, for it was loosened from the adhesive soil in which it lay, and now came up with considerable facility. 

There was a half shout of satisfaction at this result, while some of thecongregation turned pale, and trembled at the prospect of the sightwhich was about to present itself; the coffin was dragged from thegrave's brink fairly among the long rank grass that flourished in thechurchyard, and then they all looked at it for a time, and the men whohad been most earnest in raising it wiped the perspiration from theirbrows, and seemed to shrink from the task of opening that receptacle ofthe dead now that it was fairly in their power so to do. 

Each man looked anxiously in his neighbour's face, and several audiblywondered why somebody else didn't open the coffin. 

"There's no harm in it, " said one; "if he's a vampyre, we ought to knowit; and, if he ain't, we can't do any hurt to a dead man. "

"Oughtn't we to have the service for the dead?" said one. 

"Yes, " said the impertinent boy who had before received the knock on thehead, "I think we ought to have that read backwards. "

This ingenious idea was recompensed by a great many kicks and cuffs, which ought to have been sufficient to have warned him of the greatdanger of being a little before his age in wit. 

"Where's the use of shirking the job?" cried he who had been so activein shoveling the mud upon the multitude; "why, you cowardly sneaking setof humbugs, you're half afraid, now. "

"Afraid--afraid!" cried everybody: "who's afraid. "

"Ah, who's afraid?" said a little man, advancing, and assuming an heroicattitude; "I always notice, if anybody's afraid, it's some big fellow, with more bones than brains. "

At this moment, the man to whom this reproach was more particularlylevelled, raised a horrible shout of terror, and cried out, in franticaccents, --

"He's a-coming--he's a-coming!"

The little man fell at once into the grave, while the mob, with oneaccord, turned tail, and fled in all directions, leaving him alone withthe coffin. Such a fighting, and kicking, and scrambling ensued to getover the wall of the grave-yard, that this great fellow, who had causedall the mischief, burst into such peals of laughter that the majority ofthe people became aware that it was a joke, and came creeping back, looking as sheepish as possible. 

Some got up very faint sorts of laugh, and said "very good, " and sworethey saw what big Dick meant from the first, and only ran to make theothers run. 

"Very good, " said Dick, "I'm glad you enjoyed it, that's all. My eye, what a scampering there was among you. Where's my little friend, who wasso infernally cunning about bones and brains?"

With some difficulty the little man was extricated from the grave, andthen, oh, for the consistency of a mob! they all laughed at him; thosevery people who, heedless of all the amenities of existence, had beentrampling upon each other, and roaring with terror, actually had theimpudence to laugh at him, and call him a cowardly little rascal, andsay it served him right. 

But such is popularity!

"Well, if nobody won't open the coffin, " said big Dick, "I will, so heregoes. I knowed the old fellow when he was alive, and many a time he'sd----d me and I've d----d him, so I ain't a-going to be afraid of himnow he's dead. We was very intimate, you see, 'cos we was the twoheaviest men in the parish; there's a reason for everything. "

"Ah, Dick's the fellow to do it, " cried a number of persons; "there'snobody like Dick for opening a coffin; he's the man as don't care fornothing. "

"Ah, you snivelling curs, " said Dick, "I hate you. If it warn't for myown satisfaction, and all for to prove that my old friend, the butcher, as weighed seventeen stone, and stood six feet two and-a-half on his ownsole, I'd see you all jolly well--"

"D----d first, " said the boy; "open the lid, Dick, let's have a look. "

"Ah, you're a rum un, " said Dick, "arter my own heart. I sometimesthinks as you must be a nevy, or some sort of relation of mine. Howsomdever, here goes. Who'd a thought that I should ever had a look atold fat and thunder again?--that's what I used to call him; and then heused to request me to go down below, where I needn't turn round to lightmy blessed pipe. "

"Hell--we know, " said the boy; "why don't you open the lid, Dick?"

"I'm a going, " said Dick; "kim up. "

He introduced the corner of a shovel between the lid and the coffin, andgiving it a sudden wrench, he loosened it all down one side. 

A shudder pervaded the multitude, and, popularly speaking, you mighthave heard a pin drop in that crowded churchyard at that eventfulmoment. 

Dick then proceeded to the other side, and executed the same manoeuvre. 

"Now for it, " he said; "we shall see him in a moment, and we'll think weseed him still. "

"What a lark!" said the boy. 

"You hold yer jaw, will yer? Who axed you for a remark, blow yer? Whatdo you mean by squatting down there, like a cock-sparrow, with a pain inhis tail, hanging yer head, too, right over the coffin? Did you neverhear of what they call a fluvifium coming from the dead, yer ignorantbeast, as is enough to send nobody to blazes in a minute? Get out of theway of the cold meat, will yer?"

"A what, do you say, Dick?"

"Request information from the extreme point of my elbow. "

Dick threw down the spade, and laying hold of the coffin-lid with bothhands, he lifted it off, and flung it on one side. 

There was a visible movement and an exclamation among the multitude. Some were pushed down, in the eager desire of those behind to obtain asight of the ghastly remains of the butcher; those at a distance werefrantic, and the excitement was momentarily increasing. 

They might all have spared themselves the trouble, for the coffin wasempty--here was no dead butcher, nor any evidence of one ever havingbeen there, not even the grave-clothes; the only thing at all in thereceptacle of the dead was a brick. 

Dick's astonishment was so intense that his eyes and mouth kept openingtogether to such an extent, that it seemed doubtful when they wouldreach their extreme point of elongation. He then took up the brick andlooked at it curiously, and turned it over and over, examined the endsand the sides with a critical eye, and at length he said, --

"Well, I'm blowed, here's a transmogrification; he's consolidifiedhimself into a blessed brick--my eye, here's a curiosity. "

"But you don't mean to say that's the butcher, Dick?" said the boy. 

Dick reached over, and gave him a tap on the head with the brick. 

"There!" he said, "that's what I calls occular demonstration. Do youbelieve it now, you blessed infidel? What's more natural? He was anout-and-out brick while he was alive; and he's turned to a brick nowhe's dead. "

"Give it to me, Dick, " said the boy; "I should like to have that brick, just for the fun of the thing. "

"I'll see you turned into a pantile first. I sha'n't part with thishere, it looks so blessed sensible; it's a gaining on me every minute asa most remarkable likeness, d----d if it ain't. "

By this time the bewilderment of the mob had subsided; now that therewas no dead butcher to look upon, they fancied themselves mostgrievously injured; and, somehow or other, Dick, notwithstanding all hisexertions in their service, was looked upon in the light of a showman, who had promised some startling exhibition and then had disappointed hisauditors. 

The first intimation he had of popular vengeance was a stone thrown athim, but Dick's eye happened to be upon the fellow who threw it, andcollaring him in a moment, he dealt him a cuff on the side of the head, which confused his faculties for a week. 

"Hark ye, " he then cried, with a loud voice, "don't interfere with me;you know it won't go down. There's something wrong here; and, as one ofyourselves, I'm as much interested in finding out what it is as any ofyou can possibly be. There seems to be some truth in this vampyrebusiness; our old friend, the butcher, you see, is not in his grave;where is he then?"

The mob looked at each other, and none attempted to answer the question. 

"Why, of course, he's a vampyre, " said Dick, "and you may all of youexpect to see him, in turn, come into your bed-room windows with aburst, and lay hold of you like a million and a half of leeches rolledinto one. "

There was a general expression of horror, and then Dick continued, --

"You'd better all of you go home; I shall have no hand in pulling up anymore of the coffins--this is a dose for me. Of course you can do whatyou like. "

[Illustration]

"Pull them all up!" cried a voice; "pull them all up! Let's see how manyvampyres there are in the churchyard. "

"Well, it's no business of mine, " said Dick; "but I wouldn't, if I wasyou. "

"You may depend, " said one, "that Dick knows something about it, or hewouldn't take it so easy. "

"Ah! down with him, " said the man who had received the box on the ears;"he's perhaps a vampyre himself. "

The mob made a demonstration towards him, but Dick stood his ground, andthey paused again. 

"Now, you're a cowardly set, " he said; "cause you're disappointed, youwant to come upon me. Now, I'll just show what a little thing willfrighten you all again, and I warn beforehand it will, so you sha'n'tsay you didn't know it, and were taken by surprise. "

The mob looked at him, wondering what he was going to do. 

"Once! twice! thrice!" he said, and then he flung the brick up into theair an immense height, and shouted "heads, " in a loud tone. 

A general dispersion of the crowd ensued, and the brick fell in thecentre of a very large circle indeed. 

"There you are again, " said Dick; "why, what a nice act you are!"

"What fun!" said the boy. "It's a famous coffin, this, Dick, " and helaid himself down in the butcher's last resting-place. "I never was in acoffin before--it's snug enough. "

"Ah, you're a rum 'un, " said Dick; "you're such a inquiring genius, youis; you'll get your head into some hole one day, and not be able to getit out again, and then I shall see you a kicking. Hush! lay still--don'tsay anything. "

"Good again, " said the boy; "what shall I do?"

"Give a sort of a howl and a squeak, when they've all come back again. "

"Won't I!" said the boy; "pop on the lid. "

"There you are, " said Dick; "d----d if I don't adopt you, and bring youup to the science of nothing. "

"Now, listen to me, good people all, " added Dick; "I have really gotsomething to say to you. "

At this intimation the people slowly gathered again round the grave. 

"Listen, " said Dick, solemnly; "it strikes me there's some tremendous dogoing on. "

"Yes, there is, " said several who were foremost. 

"It won't be long before you'll all of you be most d--nably astonished;but let me beg of all you not to accuse me of having anything to do withit, provided I tell you all I know. "

"No, Dick; we won't--we won't--we won't. "

"Good; then, listen. I don't know anything, but I'll tell you what Ithink, and that's as good; I don't think that this brick is the butcher;but I think, that when you least expect it--hush! come a little closer. "

"Yes, yes; we are closer. "

"Well, then, I say, when you all least expect it, and when you ain'tdreaming of such a thing, you'll hear something of my fat friend as isdead and gone, that will astonish you all. "

Dick paused, and he gave the coffin a slight kick, as intimation to theboy that he might as well be doing his part in the drama, upon whichthat ingenious young gentleman set up such a howl, that even Dickjumped, so unearthly did it sound within the confines of that receptacleof the dead. 

But if the effect upon him was great, what must it have been upon thosewhom it took completely unawares? For a moment or two they seemedcompletely paralysed, and then they frightened the boy, for the shout ofterror that rose from so many throats at once was positively alarming. 

This jest of Dick's was final, for, before three minutes had elapsed, the churchyard was clear of all human occupants save himself and theboy, who had played his part so well in the coffin. 

"Get out, " said Dick, "it's all right--we've done 'em at last; and nowyou may depend upon it they won't be in a hurry to come here again. Youkeep your own counsel, or else somebody will serve you out for this. Idon't think you're altogether averse to a bit of fun, and if you keepyourself quiet, you'll have the satisfaction of hearing what's saidabout this affair in every pot-house in the village, and no mistake. "

CHAPTER XLVI. 

THE PREPARATIONS FOR LEAVING BANNERWORTH HALL, AND THE MYSTERIOUSCONDUCT OF THE ADMIRAL AND MR. CHILLINGWORTH. 

[Illustration]

It seemed now, that, by the concurrence of all parties, Bannerworth Hallwas to be abandoned; and, notwithstanding Henry was loth--as he had, indeed, from the first shown himself--to leave the ancient abode of hisrace, yet, as not only Flora, but the admiral and his friend Mr. Chillingworth seemed to be of opinion that it would be a prudent courseto adopt, he felt that it would not become him to oppose the measure. 

He, however, now made his consent to depend wholly upon the full andfree acquiescence of every member of the family. 

"If, " he said, "there be any among us who will say to me 'Continue tokeep open the house in which we have passed so many happy hours, and letthe ancient home of our race still afford a shelter to us, ' I shall feelmyself bound to do so; but if both my mother and my brother agree to adeparture from it, and that its hearth shall be left cold and desolate, be it so. I will not stand in the way of any unanimous wish orarrangement. "

"We may consider that, then, as settled, " said the admiral, "for I havespoken to your brother, and he is of our opinion. Therefore, my boy, wemay all be off as soon as we can conveniently get under weigh. "

"But my mother?

"Oh, there, I don't know. You must speak to her yourself. I never, if Ican help it, interfere with the women folks. "

"If she consent, then I am willing. "

"Will you ask her?"

"I will not ask her to leave, because I know, then, what answer shewould at once give; but she shall hear the proposition, and I will leaveher to decide upon it, unbiased in her judgment by any stated opinion ofmine upon the matter. "

"Good. That'll do; and the proper way to put it, too. There's no mistakeabout that, I can tell you. "

Henry, although he went through the ceremony of consulting his mother, had no sort of doubt before he did so that she was sufficiently aware ofthe feelings and wishes of Flora to be prepared to yield a ready assentto the proposition of leaving the Hall. 

Moreover, Mr. Marchdale had, from the first, been an advocate of such acourse of proceeding, and Henry well knew how strong an influence he hadover Mrs. Bannerworth's mind, in consequence of the respect in which sheheld him as an old and valued friend. 

He was, therefore, prepared for what his mother said, which was, --

"My dear Henry, you know that the wishes of my children, since they havebeen grown up and capable of coming to a judgment for themselves, haveever been laws to me. If you, among you all, agree to leave this place, do so. "

"But will you leave it freely, mother?"

"Most freely I go with you all; what is it that has made this house andall its appurtenances pleasant in my eyes, but the presence in it ofthose who are so dear to me? If you all leave it, you take with you theonly charms it ever possessed; so it becomes in itself as nothing. I amquite ready to accompany you all anywhere, so that we do but keeptogether. "

"Then, mother, we may consider that as settled. "

"As you please. "

"'It's scarcely as I please. I must confess that I would fain have clungwith a kind of superstitious reverence to this ancient abiding-place ofmy race, but it may not be so. Those, perchance, who are morepractically able to come to correct conclusions, in consequence of theirfeelings not being sufficiently interested to lead them astray, havedecided otherwise; and, therefore, I am content to leave. "

"Do not grieve at it, Henry. There has hung a cloud of misfortune overus all since the garden of this house became the scene of an event whichwe can none of us remember but with terror and shuddering. "

"Two generations of our family must live and die before the remembranceof that circumstance can be obliterated. But we will think of it nomore. "

There can no doubt but that the dreadful circumstance to which both Mrs. Bannerworth and Henry alluded, was the suicide of the father of thefamily in the gardens which before has been hinted at in the course ofthis narration, as being a circumstance which had created a greatsensation at the time, and cast a great gloom for many months over thefamily. 

The reader will, doubtless, too, recollect that, at his last moments, this unhappy individual was said to have uttered some incoherent wordsabout some hidden money, and that the rapid hand of death alone seemedto prevent him from being explicit upon that subject, and left it merelya matter of conjecture. 

As years had rolled on, this affair, even as a subject of speculation, had ceased to occupy the minds of any of the Bannerworth family, andseveral of their friends, among whom was Mr. Marchdale, were decidedlyof opinion that the apparently pointed and mysterious words uttered, were but the disordered wanderings of an intellect already hovering onthe confines of eternity. 

Indeed, far from any money, of any amount, being a disturbance to thelast moments of the dissolute man, whose vices and extravagances hadbrought his family, to such ruin, it was pretty generally believed thathe had committed suicide simply from a conviction of the impossibilityof raising any more supplies of cash, to enable him to carry on thecareer which he had pursued for so long. 

But to resume. 

Henry at once communicated to the admiral what his mother had said, andthen the whole question regarding the removal being settled in theaffirmative, nothing remained to be done but to set about it as quicklyas possible. 

The Bannerworths lived sufficiently distant from the town to be out ofearshot of the disturbances which were then taking place; and socompletely isolated were they from all sort of society, that they had nonotion of the popular disturbance which Varney the vampyre had givenrise to. 

It was not until the following morning that Mr. Chillingworth, who hadbeen home in the meantime, brought word of what had taken place, andthat great commotion was still in the town, and that the civilauthorities, finding themselves by far too weak to contend against thepopular will, had sent for assistance to a garrison town, some twentymiles distant. 

It was a great grief to the Bannerworth family to hear these tidings, not that they were in any way, except as victims, accessory to creatingthe disturbance about the vampyre, but it seemed to promise a kind ofnotoriety which they might well shrink from, and which they were justthe people to view with dislike. 

View the matter how we like, however, it is not to be considered as atall probable that the Bannerworth family would remain long in ignoranceof what a great sensation they had created unwittingly in theneighbourhood. 

The very reasons which had induced their servants to leave theirestablishment, and prefer throwing themselves completely out of place, rather than remain in so ill-omened a house, were sure to be bruitedabroad far and wide. 

And that, perhaps, when they came to consider of it, would suffice toform another good and substantial reason for leaving the Hall, andseeking a refuge in obscurity from the extremely troublesome sort ofpopularity incidental to their peculiar situation. 

Mr. Chillingworth felt uncommonly chary of telling them all that hadtaken place; although he was well aware that the proceedings of theriotous mob had not terminated with the little disappointment at the oldruin, to which they had so effectually chased Varney the vampyre, but tolose him so singularly when he got there. 

No doubt he possessed the admiral with the uproar that was going on inthe town, for the latter did hint a little of it to Henry Bannerworth. 

"Hilloa!" he said to Henry, as he saw him walking in the garden; "itstrikes me if you and your ship's crew continue in these latitudes, you'll get as notorious as the Flying Dutchman in the southern ocean. "

"How do you mean?" said Henry. 

"Why, it's a sure going proverb to say, that a nod's as good as a wink;but, the fact is, it's getting rather too well known to be pleasant, that a vampyre has struck up rather a close acquaintance with yourfamily. I understand there's a precious row in the town. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes; bother the particulars, for I don't know them; but, hark ye, byto-morrow I'll have found a place for you to go to, so pack up thesticks, get all your stores ready to clear out, and make yourself scarcefrom this place. "

"I understand you, " said Henry; "We have become the subject of popularrumour; I've only to beg of you, admiral, that you'll say nothing ofthis to Flora; she has already suffered enough, Heaven knows; do not lether have the additional infliction of thinking that her name is madefamiliar in every pothouse in the town. "

"Leave me alone for that, " said the admiral. "Do you think I'm an ass?"

"Ay, ay, " said Jack Pringle, who came in at that moment, and thought thequestion was addressed to him. 

"Who spoke to you, you bad-looking horse-marine?"

"Me a horse-marine! didn't you ask a plain question of a fellow, and geta plain answer?"

"Why, you son of a bad looking gun, what do you mean by that? I tell youwhat it is, Jack; I've let you come sneaking too often on thequarter-deck, and now you come poking your fun at your officers, yourascal!"

"I poking fun!" said Jack; "couldn't think of such a thing. I shouldjust as soon think of you making a joke as me. "

"Now, I tell you what it is, I shall just strike you off the ship'sbooks, and you shall just go and cruise by yourself; I've done withyou. "

"Go and tell that to the marines, if you like, " said Jack. "I ain't donewith you yet, for a jolly long watch. Why, what do you suppose wouldbecome of you, you great babby, without me? Ain't I always a conveyingyou from place to place, and steering you through all sorts ofdifficulties?"

"D---n your impudence!"

"Well, then, d---n yours. "

"Shiver my timbers!"

"Ay, you may do what you like with your own timbers. "

"And you won't leave me?"

"Sartingly not. "

"Come here, then?"

Jack might have expected a gratuity, for he advanced with alacrity. 

"There, " said the admiral, as he laid his stick across his shoulders;"that's your last month's wages; don't spend it all at once. "

"Well, I'm d----d!" said Jack; "who'd have thought of that?--he's aturning rumgumtious, and no mistake. Howsomdever, I must turn it over inmy mind, and be even with him, somehow--I owes him one for that. I say, admiral. "

"What now, you lubber?"

"Nothing; turn that over in your mind;" and away Jack walked, not quitesatisfied, but feeling, at least, that he had made a demonstration ofattack. 

As for the admiral, he considered that the thump he had given Jack withthe stick, and it was no gentle one, was a decided balancing of accountsup to that period, and as he remained likewise master of the field, hewas upon the whole very well satisfied. 

These last few words which had been spoken to Henry by Admiral Bell, more than any others, induced him to hasten his departure fromBannerworth Hall; he had walked away when the altercation between JackPringle and the admiral began, for he had seen sufficient of those wordyconflicts between those originals to be quite satisfied that neither ofthem meant what he said of a discouraging character towards the other, and that far from there being any unfriendly feeling contingent uponthose little affairs, they were only a species of friendly sparring, which both parties enjoyed extremely. 

He went direct to Flora, and he said to her, --

"Since we are all agreed upon the necessity, or, at all events, upon theexpediency of a departure from the Hall, I think, sister, the sooner wecarry out that determination the better and the pleasanter for us all itwill be. Do you think you could remove so hastily as to-morrow?"

"To-morrow! That is soon indeed. "

"I grant you that it is so; but Admiral Bell assures me that he willhave everything in readiness, and a place provided for us to go to bythen. "

"Would it be possible to remove from a house like this so very quickly?"

"Yes, sister. If you look around you, you will see that a great portionof the comforts you enjoy in this mansion belong to it as a part of itsvery structure, and are not removable at pleasure; what we really haveto take away is very little. The urgent want of money during ourfather's lifetime induced him, as you may recollect even, at varioustimes to part with much that was ornamental, as well as useful, whichwas in the Hall. You will recollect that we seldom returned from thoselittle continental tours which to us were so delightful, without findingsome old familiar objects gone, which, upon inquiry, we found had beenturned into money, to meet some more than usually pressing demand. "

"That is true, brother; I recollect well. "

"So that, upon the whole, sister, there is little to remove. "

"Well, well, be it so. I will prepare our mother for this sudden step. Believe me, my heart goes with it; and as a force of vengefulcircumstances have induced us to remove from this home, which was onceso full of pleasant recollections, it is certainly better, as you say, that the act should be at once consummated, than left hanging in terrorover our minds. "

"Then I'll consider that as settled, " said Henry. 

CHAPTER XLVII. 

THE REMOVAL FROM THE HALL. --THE NIGHT WATCH, AND THE ALARM. 

[Illustration]

Mrs. Bannerworth's consent having been already given to the removal, shesaid at once, when appealed to, that she was quite ready to go at anytime her children thought expedient. 

Upon this, Henry sought the admiral, and told him as much, at the sametime adding, --

"My sister feared that we should have considerable trouble in theremoval, but I have convinced her that such will not be the case, as weare by no means overburdened with cumbrous property. "

"Cumbrous property, " said the admiral, "why, what do you mean? I begleave to say, that when I took the house, I took the table and chairswith it. D--n it, what good do you suppose an empty house is to me?"

"The tables and chairs!"

"Yes. I took the house just as it stands. Don't try and bamboozle me outof it. I tell you, you've nothing to move but yourselves and immediatepersonal effects. "

"I was not aware, admiral, that that was your plan. "

"Well, then, now you are, listen to me. I've circumvented the enemy toooften not to know how to get up a plot. Jack and I have managed it all. To-morrow evening, after dark, and before the moon's got high enough tothrow any light, you and your brother, and Miss Flora and your mother, will come out of the house, and Jack and I will lead you where you're togo to. There's plenty of furniture where you're a-going, and so you willget off free, without anybody knowing anything about it. "

"Well, admiral, I've said it before, and it is the unanimous opinion ofus all, that everything should be left to you. You have proved yourselftoo good a friend to us for us to hesitate at all in obeying yourcommands. Arrange everything, I pray you, according to your wishes andfeelings, and you will find there shall be no cavilling on our parts. "

"That's right; there's nothing like giving a command to some one person. There's no good done without. Now I'll manage it all. Mind you, seveno'clock to-morrow evening everything is to be ready, and you will all beprepared to leave the Hall. "

"It shall be so. "

"Who's that giving such a thundering ring at the gate?"

"Nay, I know not. We have few visitors and no servants, so I must e'enbe my own gate porter. "

Henry walked to the gate, and having opened it, a servant in a handsomelivery stepped a pace or two into the garden. 

"Well, " said Henry. 

"Is Mr. Henry Bannerworth within, or Admiral Bell?"

"Both, " cried the admiral. "I'm Admiral Bell, and this is Mr. HenryBannerworth. What do you want with us, you d----d gingerbread-lookingflunkey?"

"Sir, my master desires his compliments--his very best compliments--andhe wants to know how you are after your flurry. "

"What?"

"After your--a--a--flurry and excitement. "

"Who is your master?" said Henry. 

"Sir Francis Varney. "

"The devil!" said the admiral; "if that don't beat all the impudence Iever came near. Our flurry! Ah! I like that fellow. Just go and tellhim--"

"No, no, " said Henry, interposing, "send back no message. Say to yourmaster, fellow, that Mr. Henry Bannerworth feels that not only has he noclaim to Sir Francis Varney's courtesy, but that he would rather bewithout it. "

"Oh, ha!" said the footman, adjusting his collar; "very good. This seemsa d----d, old-fashioned, outlandish place of yours. Any ale?"

"Now, shiver my hulks!" said the admiral. 

"Hush! hush!" said Henry; "who knows but there may be a design in this?We have no ale. "

"Oh, ah! dem!--dry as dust, by God! What does the old commodore say? Anymessage, my ancient Greek?"

"No, thank you, " said the admiral; "bless you, nothing. What did yougive for that waistcoat, d--n you? Ha! ha! you're a clever fellow. "

"Ah! the old gentleman's ill. However, I'll take back his compliments, and that he's much obliged at Sir Francis's condescension. At the sametime, I suppose may place in my eye what I may get out of either of you, without hindering me seeing my way back. Ha! ha! Adieu--adieu. "

"Bravo!" said the admiral; "that's it--go it--now for it. D--n it, it isa _do!_"

The admiral's calmness during the latter part of the dialogue arose fromthe fact that over the flunkey's shoulder, and at some little distanceoff, he saw Jack Pringle taking off his jacket, and rolling up hissleeves in that deliberate sort of way that seemed to imply adetermination of setting about some species of work that combined thepleasant with the useful. 

Jack executed many nods to and winks at the livery-servant, and jerkedhis thumb likewise in the direction of a pump near at hand, in a mannerthat spoke as plainly as possible, that John was to be pumped upon. 

And now the conference was ended, and Sir Francis's messenger turned togo; but Jack Pringle bothered him completely, for he danced round him insuch a singular manner, that, turn which way he would, there stood JackPringle, in some grotesque attitude, intercepting him; and so he edgedhim on, till he got him to the pump. 

"Jack, " said the admiral. 

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"Don't pump on that fellow now. "

"Ay, ay, sir; give us a hand. "

Jack laid hold of him by the two ears, and holding him under the pump, kicked his shins until he completely gathered himself beneath the spout. It was in vain that he shouted "Murder! help! fire! thieves!" Jack wasinexorable, and the admiral pumped. 

Jack turned the fellow's head about in a very scientific manner, so asto give him a fair dose of hydropathic treatment, and in a few minutes, never was human being more thoroughly saturated with moisture than wasSir Francis Varney's servant. He had left off hallooing for aid, for hefound that whenever he did so, Jack held his mouth under the spout, which was decidedly unpleasant; so, with a patience that looked likeheroic fortitude, he was compelled to wait until the admiral was tiredof pumping. 

"Very good, " at length he said. "Now, Jack, for fear this fellow catchercold, be so good as to get a horsewhip, and see him off the premiseswith it. "

"Ay, ay, sir, " said Jack. "And I say, old fellow, you can take back allour blessed compliments now, and say you've been flurried a littleyourself; and if so be as you came here as dry as dust, d----e, you goback as wet as a mop. Won't it do to kick him out, sir?"

"Very well--as you please, Jack. "

"Then here goes;" and Jack proceeded to kick the shivering animal fromthe garden with a vehemence that soon convinced him of the necessity ofgetting out of it as quickly as possible. 

How it was that Sir Francis Varney, after the fearful race he had had, got home again across the fields, free from all danger, and back to hisown house, from whence he sent so cool and insolent a message, theycould not conceive. 

But such must certainly be the fact; somehow or another, he had escapedall danger, and, with a calm insolence peculiar to the man, he had nodoubt adopted the present mode of signifying as much to theBannerworths. 

The insolence of his servant was, no doubt, a matter of pre-arrangementwith that individual, however he might have set about it con amore. Asfor the termination of the adventure, that, of course, had not been atall calculated upon; but, like most tools of other people's insolence orambition, the insolence of the underling had received both his ownpunishment and his master's. 

We know quite enough of Sir Francis Varney to feel assured that he wouldrather consider it as a good jest than otherwise of his footman, so thatwith the suffering he endured at the Bannerworths', and the want ofsympathy he was likely to find at home, that individual had certainlynothing to congratulate himself upon but the melancholy reminiscence ofhis own cleverness. 

But were the mob satisfied with what had occurred in the churchyard?They were not, and that night was to witness the perpetration of amelancholy outrage, such as the history of the time presents no parallelto. 

The finding of a brick in the coffin of the butcher, instead of the bodyof that individual, soon spread as a piece of startling intelligence allover the place; and the obvious deduction that was drawn from thecircumstance, seemed to be that the deceased butcher was unquestionablya vampyre, and out upon some expedition at the time when his coffin wassearched. 

How he had originally got out of that receptacle for the dead wascertainly a mystery; but the story was none the worse for that. Indeed, an ingenious individual found a solution for that part of the business, for, as he said, nothing was more natural, when anybody died who wascapable of becoming a vampyre, than for other vampyres who knew it todig him up, and lay him out in the cold beams of the moonlight, until heacquired the same sort of vitality they themselves possessed, and joinedtheir horrible fraternity. 

In lieu of a better explanation--and, after all, it was no bad one--thistheory was generally received, and, with a shuddering horror, peopleasked themselves, if the whole of the churchyard were excavated, howmany coffins would be found tenantless by the dead which had beensupposed, by simple-minded people, to inhabit them. 

The presence, however, of a body of dragoons, towards evening, effectually prevented any renewed attack upon the sacred precincts ofthe churchyard, and it was a strange and startling thing to see thatcountry town under military surveillance, and sentinels posted at itsprincipal buildings. 

This measure smothered the vengeance of the crowd, and insured, for atime, the safety of Sir Francis Varney; for no considerable body ofpersons could assemble for the purpose of attacking his house again, without being followed; so such a step was not attempted. 

It had so happened, however, that on that very day, the funeral of ayoung man was to have taken place, who had put up for a time at thatsame inn where Admiral Bell was first introduced to the reader. He hadbecome seriously ill, and, after a few days of indisposition, which hadpuzzled the country practitioners, breathed his last. 

He was to have been buried in the village churchyard on the very day ofthe riot and confusion incidental to the exhumation of the coffin of thebutcher, and probably from that circumstance we may deduce the presenceof the clergyman in canonicals at the period of the riot. 

When it was found that so disorderly a mob possessed the churchyard, theidea of burying the stranger on that day was abandoned; but still allwould have gone on quietly as regarded him, had it not been for thefolly of one of the chamber-maids at the tavern. 

This woman, with all the love of gossip incidental to her class, had, from the first, entered so fully into all the particulars concerningvampyres, that she fairly might be considered to be a little deranged onthat head. Her imagination had been so worked upon, that she was in anunfit state to think of anything else, and if ever upon anybody a sternand revolting superstition was calculated to produce direful effects, itwas upon this woman. 

The town was tolerably quiet; the presence of the soldiery hadfrightened some and amused others, and no doubt the night would havepassed off serenely, had she not suddenly rushed into the street, and, with bewildered accents and frantic gestures shouted, --

"A vampyre--a vampyre--a vampyre!"

These words soon collected a crowd around her, and then, with screamingaccents, which would have been quite enough to convince any reflectingperson that she had actually gone distracted upon that point, shecried, --

"Come into the house--come into the house! Look upon the dead body, thatshould have been in its grave; it's fresher now than it was the day onwhich it died, and there's a colour in its cheeks! A vampyre--avampyre--a vampyre! Heaven save us from a vampyre!"

The strange, infuriated, maniacal manner in which these words wereuttered, produced an astonishingly exciting effect among the mob. Several women screamed, and some few fainted. The torch was laid againto the altar of popular feeling, and the fierce flame of superstitionburnt brightly and fiercely. 

Some twenty or thirty persons, with shouts and exclamations, rushed intothe inn, while the woman who had created the disturbance still continuedto rave, tearing her hair, and shrieking at intervals, until she fellexhausted upon the pavement. 

Soon, from a hundred throats, rose the dreadful cry of "A vampyre--avampyre!" The alarm was given throughout the whole town; the bugles ofthe military sounded; there was a clash of arms--the shrieks of women;altogether, the premonitory symptoms of such a riot as was not likely tobe quelled without bloodshed and considerable disaster. 

It is truly astonishing the effect which one weak or vicious-mindedperson can produce upon a multitude. 

Here was a woman whose opinion would have been accounted valueless uponthe most common-place subject, and whose word would not have passed fortwopence, setting a whole town by the ears by force of nothing but hersheer brutal ignorance. 

It is a notorious physiological fact, that after four or five days, oreven a week, the bodies of many persons assume an appearance offreshness, such as might have been looked for in vain immediately afterdeath. 

It is one of the most insidious processes of that decay which appears toregret with its

 "----------- offensive fingers, To mar the lines where beauty lingers. "

But what did the chamber-maid know of physiology? Probably, she wouldhave asked if it was anything good to eat; and so, of course, having herhead full of vampyres, she must needs produce so lamentable a scene ofconfusion, the results of which we almost sicken at detailing. 

CHAPTER XLVIII. 

THE STAKE AND THE DEAD BODY. 

[Illustration]

The mob seemed from the first to have an impression that, as regardedthe military force, no very serious results would arise from thatquarter, for it was not to be supposed that, on an occasion which couldnot possibly arouse any ill blood on the part of the soldiery, or onwhich they could have the least personal feeling, they would like to geta bad name, which would stick to them for years to come. 

It was no political riot, on which men might be supposed, in consequenceof differing in opinion, to have their passions inflamed; so that, although the call of the civil authorities for military aid had beenacceded to, yet it was hoped, and, indeed, almost understood by theofficers, that their operations would lie confined more to ademonstration of power, than anything else. 

Besides, some of the men had got talking to the townspeople, and hadheard all about the vampyre story, and not being of the most refined oreducated class themselves, they felt rather interested than otherwise inthe affair. 

Under these circumstances, then, we are inclined to think, that thedisorderly mob of that inn had not so wholesome a fear as it was mostcertainly intended they should have of the redcoats. Then, again, theywere not attacking the churchyard, which, in the first case, was themain point in dispute, and about which the authorities had felt so verysore, inasmuch as they felt that, if once the common people found outthat the sanctity of such places could be outraged with impunity, theywould lose their reverence for the church; that is to say, for the hostof persons who live well and get fat in this country by the trade ofreligion. 

[Illustration]

Consequently, this churchyard was the main point of defence, and it waszealously looked to when it need not have been done so, while thepublic-house where there really reigned mischief was half unguarded. 

There are always in all communities, whether large or small, a number ofpersons who really have, or fancy they have, something to gain bydisturbance. These people, of course, care not for what pretext thepublic peace is violated; so long as there is a row, and something likean excuse for running into other people's houses, they are satisfied. 

To get into a public-house under such circumstances is an unexpectedtreat; and thus, when the mob rushed into the inn with such symptoms offury and excitement, there went with the leaders of the disturbance anumber of persons who never thought of getting further than the bar, where they attacked the spirit-taps with an alacrity which showed howgreat was their love for ardent compounds. 

Leaving these persons behind, however, we will follow those who, with areal superstition, and a furious interest in the affair of the vampyre, made their way towards the upper chamber, determining to satisfythemselves if there were truth in the statement so alarmingly made bythe woman who had created such an emotion. 

It is astonishing what people will do in crowds, in comparison with theacts that they would be able to commit individually. There is usually acalmness, a sanctity, a sublimity about death, which irresistiblyinduces a respect for its presence, alike from the educated or from theilliterate; and let the object of the fell-destroyer's presence be whomit may, the very consciousness that death has claimed it for its own, invests it with a halo of respect, that, in life, the individual couldnever aspire to probably. 

Let us precede these furious rioters for a few moments, and look uponthe chamber of the dead--that chamber, which for a whole week, had beenlooked upon with a kind of shuddering terror--that chamber which hadbeen darkened by having its sources of light closed, as if it were akind of disrespect to the dead to allow the pleasant sunshine to fallupon the faded form. 

And every inhabitant of that house, upon ascending and descending itsintricate and ancient staircases, had walked with a quiet and subduedstep past that one particular door. 

Even the tones of voice in which they spoke to each other, while theyknew that that sad remnant of mortality was in the house, was quiet andsubdued, as if the repose of death was but a mortal sleep, and could bebroken by rude sounds. 

Ay, even some of these very persons, who now with loud and boisterousclamour, had rushed into the place, had visited the house and talked inwhispers; but then they were alone, and men will do in throngs actswhich, individually, they would shrink from with compunction orcowardice, call it which we will. 

The chamber of death is upon the second story of the house. It is a backroom, the windows of which command a view of that half garden, halffarm-yard, which we find generally belonging to country inns. 

But now the shutters were closed, with the exception of one smallopening, that, in daylight, would have admitted a straggling ray oflight to fall upon the corpse. Now, however, that the sombre shades ofevening had wrapped everything in gloom, the room appeared in totaldarkness, so that the most of those adventurers who had ventured intothe place shrunk back until lights were procured from the lower part ofthe house, with which to enter the room. 

A dim oil lamp in a niche sufficiently lighted the staircase, and, bythe friendly aid of its glimmering beams, they had found their way up tothe landing tolerably well, and had not thought of the necessity ofhaving lights with which to enter the apartments, until they found themin utter darkness. 

These requisites, however, were speedily procured from the kitchen ofthe inn. Indeed, anything that was wanted was laid hold of without theleast word of remark to the people of the place, as if might, from thatevening forthwith, was understood to constitute right, in that town. 

Up to this point no one had taken a very prominent part in the attackupon the inn if attack it could be called; but now the man whom chance, or his own nimbleness, made the first of the throng, assumed to himselfa sort of control over his companions and, turning to them, he said, --

"Hark ye, my friends; we'll do everything quietly and properly; so Ithink we'd better three or four of us go in at once, arm-in-arm. "

"Psha!" cried one who had just arrived with a light; "it's yourcowardice that speaks. I'll go in first; let those follow me who like, and those who are afraid may remain where they are. "

He at once dashed into the room, and this immediately broke the spell offear which was beginning to creep over the others in consequence of thetimid suggestion of the man who, up to that moment, had been first andforemost in the enterprise. 

In an instant the chamber was half filled with persons, four or five ofwhom carried lights; so that, as it was not of very large dimensions, itwas sufficiently illuminated for every object in it to be clearlyvisible. 

There was the bed, smooth and unruffled, as if waiting for some expectedguest; while close by its side a coffin, supported upon tressles, overwhich a sheet was partially thrown, contained the sad remains of him wholittle expected in life that, after death, he should be stigmatised asan example of one of the ghastliest superstitions that ever found a homein the human imagination. 

It was evident that some one had been in the room; and that this was thewoman whose excited fancy had led her to look upon the face of thecorpse there could be no doubt, for the sheet was drawn aside justsufficiently to discover the countenance. 

The fact was that the stranger was unknown at the inn, or probably erethis the coffin lid would have been screwed on; but it was hoped, up tothe last moment, as advertisements had been put into the county papers, that some one would come forward to identify and claim him. 

Such, however, had not been the case, and so his funeral had beendetermined upon. 

The presence of so many persons at once effectually prevented anyindividual from exhibiting, even if he felt any superstitious fearsabout approaching the coffin; and so, with one accord, they surroundedit, and looked upon the face of the dead. 

There was nothing repulsive in that countenance. The fact was thatdecomposition had sufficiently advanced to induce a relaxation of themuscles, and a softening of the fibres, so that an appearance ofcalmness and repose had crept over the face which it did not wearimmediately after death. 

It happened, too, that the face was full of flesh--for the death hadbeen sudden, and there had not been that wasting away of the muscles andinteguments which makes the skin cling, as it were, to the bone, whenthe ravages of long disease have exhausted the physical frame. 

There was, unquestionably, a plumpness, a freshness, and a sort ofvitality about the countenance that was remarkable. 

For a few moments there was a death-like stillness in the apartment, andthen one voice broke the silence by exclaiming, --

"He's a vampyre, and has come here to die. Well he knows he'd be takenup by Sir Francis Varney, and become one of the crew. "

"Yes, yes, " cried several voices at once; "a vampyre! a vampyre!"

"Hold a moment, " cried one; "let us find somebody in the house who hasseen him some days ago, and then we can ascertain if there's anydifference in his looks. "

This suggestion was agreed to, and a couple of stout men ran downstairs, and returned in a few moments with a trembling waiter, whom theyhad caught in the passage, and forced to accompany them. 

This man seemed to think that he was to be made a dreadful example of insome sort of way; and, as he was dragged into the room, he trembled, andlooked as pale as death. 

"What have I done, gentlemen?" he said; "I ain't a vampyre. Don't bedriving a stake through me. I assure you, gentlemen, I'm only a waiter, and have been for a matter of five-and-twenty years. "

"You'll be done no harm to, " said one of his captors; "you've only gotto answer a question that will be put to you. "

"Oh, well, certainly, gentlemen; anything you please. Coming--coming, asI always say; give your orders, the waiter's in the room. "

"Look upon the fare of that corpse. "

"Certainly, certainly--directly. "

"Have you ever seen it before?"

"Seen it before! Lord bless you! yes, a dozen of times. I seed him aforehe died, and I seed him arter; and when the undertaker's men came, Icame up with them and I seed 'em put him in his coffin. You see I keptan eye on 'em, gentlemen, 'cos knows well enough what they is. A cousinof mine was in the trade, and he assures me as one of 'em always bringsa tooth-drawing concern in his pocket, and looks in the mouth of theblessed corpse to see if there's a blessed tooth worth pulling out. "

"Hold your tongue, " said one; "we want none of your nonsense. Do you seeany difference now in the face of the corpse to what it was some dayssince?"

"Well, I don't know; somehow, it don't look so rum. "

"Does it look fresher?"

"Well, somehow or another, now you mention it, it's very odd, but itdoes. "

"Enough, " cried the man who had questioned him, with considerableexcitement of manner. "Neighbours, are we to have our wives and ourchildren scared to death by vampyres?"

"No--no!" cried everybody. 

"Is not this, then, one of that dreadful order of beings?"

"Yes--yes; what's to be done?"

"Drive a stake through the body, and so prevent the possibility ofanything in the shape of a restoration. "

This was a terrific proposition; and even those who felt most stronglyupon the subject, and had their fears most awakened, shrank fromcarrying it into effect. Others, again, applauded it, although theydetermined, in their own minds, to keep far enough off from theexecution of the job, which they hoped would devolve upon others, sothat they might have all the security of feeling that such a process hadbeen gone through with the supposed vampyre, without being in any waycommitted by the dreadful act. 

Nothing was easier than to procure a stake from the garden in the rearof the premises; but it was one thing to have the means at hand ofcarrying into effect so dreadful a proposition, and another actually todo it. 

For the credit of human nature, we regret that even then, whencivilisation and popular education had by no means made such rapidstrides as in our times they have, such a proposition should beentertained for a moment: but so it was; and just as an alarm was giventhat a party of the soldiers had reached the inn and had takenpossession of the doorway with a determination to arrest the rioters, astrong hedge-stake had been procured, and everything was in readinessfor the perpetration of the horrible deed. 

Even then those in the room, for they were tolerably sober, would haverevolted, probably, from the execution of so fearful an act; but theentrance of a party of the military into the lower portion of thetavern, induced those who had been making free with the strong liquorsbelow, to make a rush up-stairs to their companions with the hope ofescaping detection of the petty larceny, if they got into trouble onaccount of the riot. 

These persons, infuriated by drink, were capable of anything, and tothem, accordingly, the more sober parties gladly surrendered thedisagreeable job of rendering the supposed vampyre perfectly innoxious, by driving a hedge-stake through his body--a proceeding which, it wascurrently believed, inflicted so much physical injury to the frame, asto render his resuscitation out of the question. 

The cries of alarm from below, joined now to the shouts of those madrioters, produced a scene of dreadful confusion. 

We cannot, for we revolt at the office, describe particularly thedreadful outrage which was committed upon the corpse; suffice it thattwo or three, maddened by drink, and incited by the others, plunged thehedge-stake through the body, and there left it, a sickening andhorrible spectacle to any one who might cast his eyes upon it. 

With such violence had the frightful and inhuman deed been committed, that the bottom of the coffin was perforated by the stake so that thecorpse was actually nailed to its last earthly tenement. 

Some asserted, that at that moment an audible groan came from the deadman, and that this arose from the extinguishment of that remnant of lifewhich remained in him, on account of his being a vampyre, and whichwould have been brought into full existence, if the body had been placedin the rays of the moon, when at its full, according to the popularsuperstition upon that subject. 

Others, again, were quite ready to swear that at the moment the stakewas used there was a visible convulsion of all the limbs, and that thecountenance, before so placid and so calm, became immediately distorted, as if with agony. 

But we have done with these horrible surmises; the dreadful deed hasbeen committed, and wild, ungovernable superstition has had, for a time, its sway over the ignorant and debased. 

CHAPTER XLIX. 

THE MOB'S ARRIVAL AT SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S. --THE ATTEMPT TO GAINADMISSION. 

[Illustration]

The soldiery had been sent for from their principal station near thechurchyard, and had advanced with some degree of reluctance to quellwhat they considered as nothing better nor worse than a drunken brawl ata public-house, which they really considered they ought not to be calledto interfere with. 

When, however, the party reached the spot, and heard what a confusionthere was, and saw in what numbers the rioters were assembling, itbecame evident to them that the case was of a more serious complexionthan they had at first imagined, and consequently they felt that theirprofessional dignity was not so much compromised with their interferencewith the lawless proceedings. 

Some of the constabulary of the town were there, and to them thesoldiers promised they would hand what prisoners they took, at the sametime that they made a distinct condition that they were not to betroubled with their custody, nor in any way further annoyed in thebusiness beyond taking care that they did not absolutely escape, afterbeing once secured. 

This was all that the civil authorities of the town required, and, infact, they hoped that, after making prisoners of a few of theringleaders of the riotous proceedings, the rest would disperse, andprevent the necessity of capturing them. 

Be it known, however, that both military and civil authorities werecompletely ignorant of the dreadful outrage against all common decency, which had been committed within the public-house. 

The door was well guarded, and the question now was how the rioters wereto be made to come down stairs, and be captured; and this was likely toremain a question, so long as no means were adopted to make themdescend. So that, after a time, it was agreed that a couple of troopersshould march up stairs with a constable, to enable him to secure any onewho seemed a principal in the riot. 

But this only had the effect of driving those who were in thesecond-floor, and saw the approach of the two soldiers, whom theythought were backed by the whole of their comrades, up a narrowstaircase, to a third-floor, rather consisting of lofts than of actualrooms; but still, for the time, it was a refuge; and owing to theextreme narrowness of the approach to it, which consisted of nearly aperpendicular staircase, with any degree of tact or method, it mighthave been admirably defended. 

In the hurry and scramble, all the lights were left behind; and when thetwo soldiers and constables entered the room where the corpse had lain, they became, for the first time, aware of what a horrible purpose hadbeen carried out by the infuriated mob. 

The sight was one of perfect horror, and hardened to scenes which mightstrike other people as being somewhat of the terrific as these soldiersmight be supposed to be by their very profession, they actually sickenedat the sight which the mutilated corpse presented, and turned aside withhorror. 

These feelings soon gave way to anger and animosity against the crowdwho could be guilty of such an atrocious outrage; and, for the firsttime, a strong and interested vengeance against the mob pervaded thebreasts of those who were brought to act against it. 

One of the soldiers ran down stairs to the door, and reported the scenewhich was to be seen above. A determination was instantly come to, tocapture as many as possible of those who had been concerned in sodiabolical an outrage, and leaving a guard of five men at the door, theremainder of the party ascended the staircase, determined upon stormingthe last refuge of the rioters, and dragging them to justice. 

The report, however, of these proceedings that were taking place at theinn, spread quickly over the whole town; and soon as large a mob of thedisorderly and the idle as the place could at all afford was assembledoutside the inn. 

This mob appeared, for a time, inertly to watch the proceedings. Itseemed rather a hazardous thing to interfere with the soldiers, whosecarbines look formidable and troublesome weapons. 

With true mob courage, therefore, they left the minority of theircomrades, who were within the house, to their fate; and after awhispered conference from one to the other, they suddenly turned in abody, and began to make for the outskirts of the town. 

They then separated, as if by common consent, and straggled out into theopen country by twos and threes, consolidating again into a mass whenthey had got some distance off, and clear of any exertions that could bemade by the soldiery to stay them. 

The cry then rose of "Down with Sir Francis Varney--slay him--burn hishouse--death to all vampyres!" and, at a rapid pace, they proceeded inthe direction of his mansion. 

We will leave this mob, however, for the present, and turn our attentionto those who are at the inn, and are certainly in a position of somejeopardy. Their numbers were not great, and they were unarmed;certainly, their best chance would have been to have surrendered atdiscretion; but that was a measure which, if the sober ones had feltinclined to, those who were infuriated and half maddened with drinkwould not have acceded to on any account. 

A furious resistance was, therefore, fairly to be expected; and whatmeans the soldiery were likely to use for the purpose of storming thislast retreat was a matter of rather anxious conjecture. 

In the case of a regular enemy, there would not, perhaps, have been muchdifficulty; but here the capture of certain persons, and not theirdestruction, was the object; and how that was to be accomplished by fairmeans, certainly was a question which nobody felt very competent tosolve. 

Determination, however, will do wonders; and although the riotersnumbered over forty, notwithstanding all their desertions, and not aboveseventeen or eighteen soldiers marched into the inn, we shall perceivethat they succeeded in accomplishing their object without anymanoeuvring at all. 

The space in which the rioters were confined was low, narrow, andinconvenient, as well as dark, for the lights on the staircase cast upthat height but very insufficient rays. 

Weapons of defence they found but very few, and yet there were somewhich, to do them but common credit, they used as effectually aspossible. 

These attics, or lofts, were used as lumber-rooms, and had been so foryears, so that there was a collection of old boxes, broken pieces offurniture, and other matters, which will, in defiance of everything andeverybody, collect in a house. 

These were formidable means of defence, if not of offence, down a verynarrow staircase, had they been used with judgment. 

Some of the rioters, who were only just drunk enough to be fool-hardy, collected a few of these articles at the top of the staircase, and sworethey would smash anybody who should attempt to come up to them, a threateasier uttered than executed. 

And besides, after all, if their position had been ever so impregnable, they must come down eventually, or be starved out. 

But the soldiers were not at liberty to adopt so slow a process ofovercoming their enemy, and up the second-floor staircase they went, with a determination of making short work of the business. 

They paused a moment, by word of command, on the landing, and then, after this slight pause, the word was given to advance. 

Now when men will advance, in spite of anything and everything, it is noeasy matter to stop them, and he who was foremost among the militarywould as soon thought of hesitating to ascend the narrow staircasebefore him, when ordered so to do, as paying the national debt. On hewent, and down came a great chest, which, falling against his feet, knocked him down as he attempted to scramble over it. 

"Fire, " said the officer; and it appeared that he had made somearrangements as to how the order was to be obeyed, for the second manfired his carbine, and then scrambled over his prostrate comrade; afterwhich he stooped, and the third fired his carbine likewise, and thenhurried forward in the same manner. 

At the first sound of the fire arms the rioters were taken completely bysurprise; they had not had the least notion of affairs getting to such alength. The smell of the powder, the loud report, and the sensation ofpositive danger that accompanied these phenomena, alarmed them mostterrifically; so that, in point of fact, with the exception of the emptychest that was thrown down in the way of the first soldier, no furtheridea of defence seemed in any way to find a place in the hearts of thebesieged. 

They scrambled one over the other in their eagerness to get as far aspossible from immediate danger, which, of course, they conceived existedin the most imminent degree the nearest to the door. 

Such was the state of terror into which they were thrown, that each oneat the moment believed himself shot, and the soldiers had overcome allthe real difficulties in getting possession of what might thus be calledthe citadel of the inn, before those men who had been so valorous ashort time since recovered from the tremendous fright into which theyhad been thrown. 

We need hardly say that the carbines were loaded, but with blankcartridges, for there was neither a disposition nor a necessity fortaking the lives of these misguided people. 

If was the suddenness and the steadiness of the attack that had done allthe mischief to their cause; and now, ere they recovered from thesurprise of having their position so completely taken by storm, theywere handed down stairs, one by one, from soldier to soldier, and intothe custody of the civil authorities. 

In order to secure the safe keeping of large a body of prisoners, theconstables, who were in a great minority, placed handcuffs upon some ofthe most capable of resistance; so what with those who were thussecured, and those who were terrified into submission, there was not aman of all the lot who had taken refuge in the attics of thepublic-house but was a prisoner. 

At the sound of fire-arms, the women who were outside the inn had, ofcourse, raised a most prodigious clamour. 

They believed directly that every bullet must have done some mostserious mischief to the townspeople, and it was only upon one of thesoldiers, a non-commissioned officer, who was below, assuring them ofthe innoxious nature of the proceeding which restored anything likeequanimity. 

"Silence!" he cried: "what are you howling about? Do you fancy thatwe've nothing better to do than to shoot a parcel of fellows that arenot worth the bullets that would be lodged in their confoundedcarcases?"

"But we heard the gun, " said a woman. 

"Of course you did; it's the powder that makes the noise, not thebullet. You'll see them all brought out safe wind and limb. "

This assurance satisfied the women to a certain extent, and such hadbeen their fear that they should have had to look upon the spectacle ofdeath, or of grievous wounds, that they were comparatively quitesatisfied when they saw husbands, fathers, and brothers, only in thecustody of the town officers. 

And very sheepish some of the fellows looked, when they were handed downand handcuffed, and the more especially when they had been routed onlyby a few blank cartridges--that sixpenny worth of powder had defeatedthem. 

They were marched off to the town gaol, guarded by the military, who nowprobably fancied that their night's work was over, and that the mostturbulent and troublesome spirits in the town had been secured. 

Such, however, was not the case, for no sooner had comparative orderbeen restored, than common observation pointed to a dull red glare inthe southern sky. 

In a few more minutes there came in stragglers from the open country, shouting "Fire! fire!" with all their might. 

CHAPTER L. 

THE MOB'S ARRIVAL AT SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S. --THE ATTEMPT TO GAINADMISSION. 

[Illustration]

All eyes were directed towards that southern sky which each moment wasbecoming more and more illuminated by the lurid appearance bespeaking aconflagration, which if it was not extensive, at all events was ragingfiercely. 

There came, too upon the wind, which set from that direction, strangesounds, resembling shouts of triumph, combined occasionally with sharpercries, indicative of alarm. 

With so much system and so quietly had this attack been made upon thehouse of Sir Francis Varney--for the consequences of it now exhibitedthemselves most unequivocally--that no one who had not actuallyaccompanied the expedition was in the least aware that it had been atall undertaken, or that anything of the kind was on the tapis. 

Now, however, it could be no longer kept a secret, and as the infuriatedmob, who had sought this flagrant means of giving vent to their anger, saw the flames from the blazing house rising high in the heavens, theyfelt convinced that further secrecy was out of the question. 

Accordingly, in such cries and shouts as--but for caution's sake--theywould have indulged in from the very first, they now gave utterance totheir feelings as regarded the man whose destruction was aimed at. 

"Death to the vampyre!--death to the vampyre!" was the principal shout, and it was uttered in tones which sounded like those of rage anddisappointment. 

But it is necessary, now that we have disposed of the smaller number ofrioters who committed so serious an outrage at the inn, that we should, with some degree of method, follow the proceedings of the larger number, who went from the town towards Sir Francis Varney's. 

These persons either had information of a very positive nature, or avery strong suspicion that, notwithstanding the mysterious and mostunaccountable disappearance of the vampyre in the old ruin, he would nowbe found, as usual, at his own residence. 

Perhaps one of his own servants may have thus played the traitor to him;but however it was, there certainly was an air of confidence about someof the leaders of the tumultuous assemblage that induced a generalbelief that this time, at least, the vampyre would not escape popularvengeance for being what he was. 

We have before noticed that these people went out of the town atdifferent points, and did not assemble into one mass until they were ata sufficient distance off to be free from all fear of observation. 

Then some of the less observant and cautious of them began to indulge inshouts of rage and defiance; but those who placed themselves foremostsucceeded in procuring a halt, and one said, --

"Good friends all, if we make any noise, it can only have one effect, and that is, to warn Sir Francis Varney, and enable him to escape. If, therefore, we cannot go on quietly, I propose that we return to ourhomes, for we shall accomplish nothing. "

This advice was sufficiently and evidently reasonable to meet with nodissension; a death-like stillness ensued, only broken by some two orthree voices saying, in subdued tones, --

"That's right--that's right. Nobody speak. "

"Come on, then, " said he who had given such judicious counsel; and thedark mass of men moved towards Sir Francis Varney's house, as quietly asit was possible for such an assemblage to proceed. 

Indeed, saving the sound of the footsteps, nothing could be heard ofthem at all; and that regular tramp, tramp, would have puzzled any onelistening to it from any distance to know in which direction it wasproceeding. 

In this way they went on until Sir Francis Varney's house was reached, and then a whispered word to halt was given, and all eyes were bent uponthe building. 

From but one window out of the numerous ones with which the front of themansion was studded did there shine the least light, and from that therecame rather an uncommonly bright reflection, probably arising from areading lamp placed close to the window. 

A general impression, they knew not why exactly, seemed to pervadeeverybody, that in the room from whence streamed that bright light wasSir Francis Varney. 

"The vampyre's room!" said several. "The vampyre's room! That is it!"

"Yes, " said he who had a kind of moral control over his comrades; "Ihave no doubt but he is there. "

"What's to be done?" asked several. 

"Make no noise whatever, but stand aside, so as not to be seen from thedoor when it is opened. "

"Yes, yes. "

"I will knock for admittance, and, the moment it is answered, I willplace this stick in such a manner within, that the door cannot be closedagain. Upon my saying 'Advance, ' you will make a rush forward, and weshall have possession immediately of the house. "

All this was agreed to. The mob slunk close to the walls of the house, and out of immediate observation from the hall door, or from any of thewindows, and then the leader advanced, and knocked loudly for admission. 

The silence was now of the most complete character that could beimagined. Those who came there so bent upon vengeance were thoroughlyconvinced of the necessity of extreme caution, to save themselves evenyet from being completely foiled. 

They had abundant faith, from experience, of the resources in the way ofescape of Sir Francis Varney, and not one among them was there whoconsidered that there was any chance of capturing him, except bysurprise, and when once they got hold of him, they determined he shouldnot easily slip through their fingers. 

The knock for admission produced no effect; and, after waiting three orfour minutes, it was very provoking to find such a wonderful amount ofcaution and cunning completely thrown away. 

"Try again, " whispered one. 

"Well, have patience; I am going to try again. "

The man had the ponderous old-fashioned knocker in his hand, and wasabout to make another appeal to Sir Francis Varney's door, when astrange voice said, --

"Perhaps you may as well say at once what you want, instead of knockingthere to no purpose. "

He gave a start, for the voice seemed to come from the very door itself. 

Yet it sounded decidedly human; and, upon a closer inspection, it wasseen that a little wicket-gate, not larger than a man's face, had beenopened from within. 

This was terribly provoking. Here was an extent of caution on the partof the garrison quite unexpected. What was to be done?

"Well?" said the man who appeared at the little opening. 

"Oh, " said he who had knocked; "I--"

"Well?"

"I--that is to say--ahem! Is Sir Francis Varney within?"

"Well?"

"I say, is Sir Francis Varney within?"

"Well; you have said it!"

"Ah, but you have not answered it. "

"No. "

"Well, is he at home?"

"I decline saying; so you had better, all of you, go back to the townagain, for we are well provided with all material to resist any attackyou may be fools enough to make. "

As he spoke, the servant shut the little square door with a bang thatmade his questioner jump again. Here was a dilemma!

CHAPTER LI. 

THE ATTACK UPON THE VAMPYRE'S HOUSE. --THE STORY OF THE ATTACK. --THEFORCING OF THE DOORS, AND THE STRUGGLE. 

[Illustration]

A council of war was now called among the belligerents, who weresomewhat taken aback by the steady refusal of the servant to admit them, and their apparent determination to resist all endeavours on the part ofthe mob to get into and obtain possession of the house. It argued thatthey were prepared to resist all attempts, and it would cost some fewlives to get into the vampyre's house. This passed through the minds ofmany as they retired behind the angle of the wall where the council wasto be held. 

Here they looked in each others' face, as if to gather from that thegeneral tone of the feelings of their companions; but here they sawnothing that intimated the least idea of going back as they came. 

"It's all very well, mates, to take care of ourselves, you know, " beganone tall, brawny fellow; "but, if we bean't to be sucked to death by avampyre, why we must have the life out of him. "

"Ay, so we must. "

"Jack Hodge is right; we must kill him, and there's no sin in it, for hehas no right to it; he's robbed some poor fellow of his life to prolonghis own. "

"Ay, ay, that's the way he does; bring him out, I say, then see what wewill do with him. "

"Yes, catch him first, " said one, "and then we can dispose of himafterwards, I say, neighbours, don't you think it would be as well tocatch him first?"

"Haven't we come on purpose?"

"Yes, but do it. "

"Ain't we trying it?"

"You will presently, when we come to get into the house. "

"Well, what's to be done?" said one; "here we are in a fix, I think, andI can't see our way out very clearly. "

[Illustration]

"I wish we could get in. "

"But how is a question I don't very well see, " said a large specimen ofhumanity. 

"The best thing that can be done will be to go round and look over thewhole house, and then we may come upon some part where it is far easierto get in at than by the front door. "

"But it won't do for us all to go round that way, " said one; "a smallparty only should go, else they will have all their people stationed atone point, and if we can divide them, we shall beat them because theyhave not enough to defend more than one point at a time; now we arenumerous enough to make several attacks. "

"Oh! that's the way to bother them all round; they'll give in, and thenthe place is our own. "

"No, no, " said the big countryman, "I like to make a good rush and driveall afore us; you know what ye have to do then, and you do it, ye know. "

"If you can. "

"Ay, to be sure, if we can, as you say; but can't we? that's what I wantto know. "

"To be sure we can. "

"Then we'll do it, mate--that's my mind; we'll do it. Come on, and let'shave another look at the street-door. "

The big countryman left the main body, and resolutely walked up to themain avenue, and approached the door, accompanied by about a dozen orless of the mob. When they came to the door, they commenced knocking andkicking most violently, and assailing it with all kinds of things theycould lay their hands upon. 

They continued at this violent exercise for some time--perhaps for fiveminutes, when the little square hole in the door was again opened, and avoice was heard to say, --

"You had better cease that kind of annoyance. "

"We want to get in. "

"It will cost you more lives to do so than you can afford to spare. Weare well armed, and are prepared to resist any effort you can make. "

"Oh! it's all very well; but, an you won't open, why we'll make you;that's all about it. "

This was said as the big countryman and his companions were leaving theavenue towards the rest of the body. 

"Then, take this, as an earnest of what is to follow, " said the man, andhe discharged the contents of a blunderbuss through the small opening, and its report sounded to the rest of the mob like the report of afield-piece. 

Fortunately for the party retiring the man couldn't take any aim, elseit is questionable how many of the party would have got off unwounded. As it was, several of them found stray slugs were lodged in variousparts of their persons, and accelerated their retreat from the house ofthe vampyre. 

"What luck?" inquired one of the mob to the others, as they came back;"I'm afraid you had all the honour. "

"Ay, ay, we have, and all the lead too, " replied a man, as he placed hishand upon a sore part of his person, which bled in consequence of awound. 

"Well, what's to be done?"

"Danged if I know, " said one. 

"Give it up, " said another. 

"No, no; have him out. I'll never give in while I can use a stick. Theyare in earnest, and so are we. Don't let us be frightened because theyhave a gun or two--they can't have many; and besides, if they have, weare too many for them. Besides, we shall all die in our beds. "

"Hurrah! down with the vampyre!"

"So say I, lads. I don't want to be sucked to death when I'm a-bed. Better die like a man than such a dog's death as that, and you have norevenge then. "

"No, no; he has the better of us then. We'll have him out--we'll burnhim--that's the way we'll do it. "

"Ay, so we will; only let us get in. "

At that moment a chosen party returned who had been round the house tomake a reconnaissance. 

"Well, well, " inquired the mob, "what can be done now--where can we getin?"

"In several places. "

"All right; come along then; the place is our own. "

"Stop a minute; they are armed at all points, and we must make an attackon all points, else we may fail. A party must go round to thefront-door, and attempt to beat it in; there are plenty of poles andthings that could be used for such a purpose. "

"There is, besides, a garden-door, that opens into the house--a kind ofparlour; a kitchen-door; a window in the flower-garden, and an entranceinto a store-room; this place appears strong, and is thereforeunguarded. "

"The very point to make an attack. "

"Not quite. "

"Why not?"

"Because it can easily be defended, and rendered useless to us. We mustmake an attack upon all places but that, and, while they are being atthose points, we can then enter at that place, and then you will findthem desert the other places when they see us inside. "

"Hurrah! down with the vampyre!" said the mob, as they listened to thisadvice, and appreciated the plan. 

"Down with the vampyre!"

"Now, then, lads, divide, and make the attack; never mind their guns, they have but very few, and if you rush in upon them, you will soon havethe guns yourselves. "

"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted the mob. 

The mob now moved away in different bodies, each strong enough to carrythe house. They seized upon a variety of poles and stones, and then madefor the various doors and windows that were pointed out by those who hadmade the discovery. Each one of those who had formed the party ofobservation, formed a leader to the others, and at once proceeded to thepost assigned him. 

The attack was so sudden and so simultaneous that the servants wereunprepared; and though they ran to the doors, and fired away, still theydid but little good, for the doors were soon forced open by the enragedrioters, who proceeded in a much more systematic operation, using longheavy pieces of timber which were carried on the shoulders of severalmen, and driven with the force of battering-rams--which, in fact, theywere--against the door. 

Bang went the battering-ram, crash went the door, and the whole partyrushed headlong in, carried forward by their own momentum and fellprostrate, engine and all, into the passage. 

"Now, then, we have them, " exclaimed the servants, who began to belabourthe whole party with blows, with every weapon they could secure. 

Loudly did the fallen men shout for assistance, and but for theirfellows who came rushing in behind, they would have had but a sorry timeof it. 

"Hurrah!" shouted the mob; "the house is our own. "

"Not yet, " shouted the servants. 

"We'll try, " said the mob; and they rushed forward to drive the servantsback, but they met with a stout resistance, and as some of them hadchoppers and swords, there were a few wounds given, and presently bangwent the blunderbuss. 

Two or three of the mob reeled and fell. 

This produced a momentary panic, and the servants then had the whole ofthe victory to themselves, and were about to charge, and clear thepassage of their enemies, when a shout behind attracted their attention. 

That shout was caused by an entrance being gained in another quarter, whence the servants were flying, and all was disorder. 

"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted the mob. 

The servants retreated to the stairs, and here united, they made astand, and resolved to resist the whole force of the rioters, and theysucceeded in doing so, too, for some minutes. Blows were given and takenof a desperate character. 

Somehow, there were no deadly blows received by the servants; they werebeing forced and beaten, but they lost no life; this may be accountedfor by the fact that the mob used no more deadly weapons than sticks. 

The servants of Sir Francis Varney, on the contrary, were mostly armedwith deadly weapons, which, however, they did not use unnecessarily. They stood upon the hall steps--the grand staircase, with long poles orsticks, about the size of quarter-staves, and with these they belabouredthose below most unmercifully. 

Certainly, the mob were by no means cowards, for the struggle to closewith their enemies was as great as ever, and as firm as could well be. Indeed, they rushed on with a desperation truly characteristic of JohnBull, and defied the heaviest blows; for as fast as one was strickendown another occupied his place, and they insensibly pressed their closeand compact front upon the servants, who were becoming fatigued andharassed. 

"Fire, again, " exclaimed a voice from among the servants. 

The mob made no retrogade movement, but still continued to pressonwards, and in another moment a loud report rang through the house, anda smoke hung over the heads of the mob. 

A long groan or two escaped some of the men who had been wounded, and astill louder from those who had not been wounded, and a cry arose of, --

"Down with the vampyre--pull down--destroy and burn the wholeplace--down with them all. "

A rush succeeded, and a few more discharges took place, when a shoutabove attracted the attention of both parties engaged in this fiercestruggle. They paused by mutual consent, to look and see what was thecause of that shout. 

CHAPTER LII. 

THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN THE MOB AND SIR FRANCIS VARNEY. --THE MYSTERIOUSDISAPPEARANCE. --THE WINE CELLARS. 

[Illustration]

The shout that had so discomposed the parties who were thus engaged in aterrific struggle came from a party above. 

"Hurrah! hurrah!" they shouted a number of times, in a wild strain ofdelight. "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!"

The fact was, a party of the mob had clambered up a verandah, andentered some of the rooms upstairs, whence they emerged just above thelanding near the spot where the servants were resisting in a mass theefforts of the mob. 

"Hurrah!" shouted the mob below. 

"Hurrah!" shouted the mob above. 

There was a momentary pause, and the servants divided themselves intotwo bodies, and one turned to face those above, and the other those whowere below. 

A simultaneous shout was given by both parties of the mob, and a suddenrush was made by both bodies, and the servants of Sir Francis Varneywere broken in an instant. They were instantly separated, and knockedabout a good bit, but they were left to shift for themselves, the mobhad a more important object in view. 

"Down with the vampyre!" they shouted. 

"Down with the vampyre!" shouted they, and they rushed helter skelterthrough the rooms, until they came to one where the door was partiallyopen, and they could see some person very leisurely seated. 

"Here he is, " they cried. 

"Who? who?"

"The vampire. "

"Down with him! kill him! burn him!"

"Hurrah! down with the vampire!"

These sounds were shouted out by a score of voices, and they rushedheadlong into the room. 

But here their violence and headlong precipitancy were suddenlyrestrained by the imposing and quiet appearance of the individual whowas there seated. 

The mob entered the room, and there was a sight, that if it did notastonish them, at least, it caused them to pause before the individualwho was seated there. 

The room was well filled with furniture, and there was a curtain drawnacross the room, and about the middle of it there was a table, behindwhich sat Sir Francis Varney himself, looking all smiles and courtesy. 

"Well, dang my smock-frock!" said one, "who'd ha' thought of this? Hedon't seem to care much about it. "

"Well, I'm d----d!" said another; "he seems pretty easy, at all events. What is he going to do?"

"Gentlemen, " said Sir Francis Varney, rising, with the blandest smiles, "pray, gentlemen, permit me to inquire the cause of this condescensionon your part. The visit is kind. "

The mob looked at Sir Francis, and then at each other, and then at SirFrancis again; but nobody spoke. They were awed by this gentlemanly andcollected behaviour. 

"If you honour me with this visit from pure affection and neighbourlygood-will, I thank you. "

"Down with the vampyre!" said one, who was concealed behind the rest, and not so much overawed, as he had not seen Sir Francis. 

Sir Francis Varney rose to his full height; a light gleamed across hisfeatures; they were strongly defined then. His long front teeth, too, showed most strongly when he smiled, as he did now, and said, in a blandvoice, --

"Gentlemen, I am at your service. Permit me to say you are welcome toall I can do for you. I fear the interview will be somewhat inconvenientand unpleasant to you. As for myself, I am entirely at your service. "

As Sir Francis spoke, he bowed, and folded his hands together, andstepped forwards; but, instead of coming onwards to them, he walkedbehind the curtain, and was immediately hid from their view. 

"Down with the vampyre!" shouted one. 

"Down with the vampyre!" rang through the apartment; and the mob now, not awed by the coolness and courtesy of Sir Francis, rushed forward, and, overturning the table, tore down the curtain to the floor; but, totheir amazement, there was no Sir Francis Varney present. 

"Where is he?"

"Where is the vampyre?"

"Where has he gone?"

These were cries that escaped every one's lips; and yet no one couldgive an answer to them. 

There Sir Francis Varney was not. They were completely thunderstricken. They could not find out where he had gone to. There was no possiblemeans of escape, that they could perceive. There was not an odd corner, or even anything that could, by any possibility, give even a suspicionthat even a temporary concealment could take place. 

They looked over every inch of flooring and of wainscoting; not theremotest trace could be discovered. 

"Where is he?"

"I don't know, " said one--"I can't see where he could have gone. Thereain't a hole as big as a keyhole. "

"My eye!" said one; "I shouldn't be at all surprised, if he were to blowup the whole house. "

"You don't say go!"

"I never heard as how vampyres could do so much as that. They ain't thesort of people, " said another. 

"But if they can do one thing, they can do another. "

"That's very true. "

"And what's more, I never heard as how a vampyre could make himself intonothing before; yet he has done so. "

"He may be in this room now. "

"He may. "

"My eyes! what precious long teeth he had!"

"Yes; and had he fixed one on 'em in to your arm, he would have drawnevery drop of blood out of your body; you may depend upon that, " said anold man. 

"He was very tall. "

"Yes; too tall to be any good. "

"I shouldn't like him to have laid hold of me, though, tall as he is;and then he would have lifted me up high enough to break my neck, whenhe let me fall. "

The mob routed about the room, tore everything out of its place, and asthe object of their search seemed to be far enough beyond their reach, their courage rose in proportion, and they shouted and screamed with aproportionate increase of noise and bustle; and at length they ran aboutmad with rage and vexation, doing all the mischief that was in theirpower to inflict. 

Then they became mischievous, and tore he furniture from its place, andbroke it in pieces, and then amused themselves with breaking it up, throwing pieces at the pier-glasses, in which they made dreadful holes;and when that was gone, they broke up the frames. 

Every hole and corner of the house was searched, but there was no SirFrancis Varney to be found. 

"The cellars, the cellars!" shouted a voice. 

"The cellars, the cellars!" re-echoed nearly every pair of lips in thewhole place; in another moment, there was crushing an crowding to getdown into the cellars. 

"Hurray!" said one, as he knocked off the neck of the bottle that firstcame to hand. 

"Here's luck to vampyre-hunting! Success to our chase!"

"So say I, neighbour; but is that your manners to drink before yourbetters?"

So saying, the speaker knocked the other's elbow, while he was in theact of lifting the wine to his mouth; and thus he upset it over his faceand eyes. 

"D--n it!" cried the man; "how it makes my eyes smart! Dang thee! if Icould see, I'd ring thy neck!"

"Success to vampyre-hunting!" said one. 

"May we be lucky yet!" said another. 

"I wouldn't be luckier than this, " said another, as he, too, emptied abottle. "We couldn't desire better entertainment, where the reckoning isall paid. "

"Excellent!"

"Very good!"

"Capital wine this!"

"I say, Huggins!"

"Well, " said Huggins. 

"What are you drinking?"

"Wine. "

"What wine?"

"Danged if I know, " was the reply. "It's wine, I suppose; for I know itain't beer nor spirits; so it must be wine. "

"Are you sure it ain't bottled men's blood?"

"Eh?"

"Bottled blood, man! Who knows what a vampyre drinks? It may be hiswine. He may feast upon that before he goes to bed of a night, drinkanybody's health, and make himself cheerful on bottled blood!"

"Oh, danged! I'm so sick; I wish I hadn't taken the stuff. It may be asyou say, neighbour, and then we be cannibals. "

"Or vampyres. "

"There's a pretty thing to think of. "

By this time some were drunk, some were partially so, and the remainderwere crowding into the cellars to get their share of the wine. 

The servants had now slunk away; they were no longer noticed by therioters, who, having nobody to oppose them, no longer thought ofanything, save the searching after the vampyre, and the destruction ofthe property. Several hours had been spent in this manner, and yet theycould not find the object of their search. 

There was not a room, or cupboard, or a cellar, that was capable ofcontaining a cat, that they did not search, besides a part of therioters keeping a very strict watch on the outside of the house and allabout the grounds, to prevent the possibility of the escape of thevampyre. 

There was a general cessation of active hostilities at that moment; areaction after the violent excitement and exertion they had made to getin. Then the escape of their victim, and the mysterious manner in whichhe got away, was also a cause of the reaction, and the rioters looked ineach others' countenances inquiringly. 

Above all, the discovery of the wine-cellar tended to withdraw them fromviolent measures; but this could not last long, there must be an end tosuch a scene, for there never was a large body of men assembled for anevil purpose, who ever were, for any length of time, peaceable. 

To prevent the more alarming effects of drunkenness, some few of therioters, after having taken some small portion of the wine, became, fromthe peculiar flavour it possessed, imbued with the idea that it wasreally blood, and forthwith commenced an instant attack upon the wineand liquors, and they were soon mingling in one stream throughout thecellars. 

This destruction was loudly declaimed against by a large portion of therioters, who were drinking; but before they could make any efforts tosave the liquor, the work of destruction had not only been begun, butwas ended, and the consequence was, the cellars were very soon evacuatedby the mob. 

CHAPTER LIII. 

THE DESTRUCTION OF SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S HOUSE BY FIRE. --THE ARRIVAL OFTHE MILITARY, AND A SECOND MOB. 

[Illustration]

Thus many moments had not elapsed ere the feelings of the rioters becamedirected into a different channel from that in which it had so latelyflowed. When urged about the house and grounds for the vampyre, theybecame impatient and angry at not finding him. Many believed that he wasyet about the house, while many were of opinion that he had flown awayby some mysterious means only possessed by vampyres and such likepeople. 

"Fire the house, and burn him out, " said one. 

"Fire the house!"

"Burn the den!" now arose in shouts from all present, and then the mobwere again animated by the love of mischief that seemed to be thestrongest feelings that animated them. 

"Burn him out--burn him out!" were the only words that could be heardfrom any of the mob. The words ran through the house like wildfire, nobody thought of anything else, and all were seen running about inconfusion. 

There was no want of good will on the part of the mob to theundertaking; far from it, and they proceeded in the work _con amore_. They worked together with right good will, and the result was soon seenby the heaps of combustible materials that were collected in a shorttime from all parts of the house. 

All the old dry wood furniture that could be found was piled up in aheap, and to these were added a number of faggots, and also someshavings that were found in the cellar. 

"All right!" exclaimed one man, in exultation. 

"Yes, " replied a second; "all right--all right! Set light to it, and hewill be smoked out if not burned. "

"Let us be sure that all are out of the house, " suggested one of thebystanders. 

"Ay, ay, " shouted several; "give them all a chance. Search through thehouse and give them a warning. "

"Very well; give me the light, and then when I come back I will setlight to the fire at once, and then I shall know all is empty, and sowill you too. "

This was at once agreed to by all, with acclamations, and the lightbeing handed to the man, he ascended the stairs, crying out in a loudvoice, --

"Come out--come out! the house is on fire!"

"Fire! fire! fire!" shouted the mob as a chorus, every now and then atintervals. 

In about ten minutes more, there came a cry of "all right; the house isempty, " from up the stairs, and the man descended in haste to the hall. 

"Make haste, lads, and fire away, for I see the red coats are leavingthe town. "

"Hurra! hurra!" shouted the infuriated mob. "Fire--fire--fire the house!Burn out the vampyre! Burn down the house--burn him out, and see if hecan stand fire. "

Amidst all this tumult there came a sudden blaze upon all around, forthe pile had been fired. 

"Hurra!" shouted the mob--"hurra!" and they danced like maniacs roundthe fire; looking, in fact, like so many wild Indians, dancing roundtheir roasting victims, or some demons at an infernal feast. 

The torch had been put to twenty different places, and the flames unitedinto one, and suddenly shot up with a velocity, and roared with a soundthat caused many who were present to make a precipitate retreat from thehall. 

This soon became a necessary measure of self-preservation, and itrequired no urging to induce them to quit a place that was burningrapidly and even furiously. 

"Get the poles and firewood--get faggots, " shouted some of the mob, and, lo, it was done almost by magic. They brought the faggots and wood piledup for winter use, and laid them near all the doors, and especially themain entrance. Nay, every gate or door belonging to the outhouses wasbrought forward and placed upon the fire, which now began to reach theupper stories. 

"Hurra--fire! Hurra--fire!"

And a loud shout of triumph came from the mob as they viewed theprogress of the flames, as they came roaring and tearing through thehouse doors and the windows. 

Each new victory of the element was a signal to the mob for a cheer; anda hearty cheer, too, came from them. 

"Where is the vampyre now?" exclaimed one. 

"Ha! where is he?" said another. 

"If he be there, " said the man, pointing to the flames, "I reckon he'sgot a warm berth of it, and, at the same time, very little water to boilin his kettle. "

"Ha, ha! what a funny old man is Bob Mason; he's always poking fun; he'djoke if his wife were dying. "

"There is many a true word spoken in jest, " suggested another; "and, tomy mind, Bob Mason wouldn't be very much grieved if his wife were todie. "

"Die?" said Bob; "she and I have lived and quarrelled daily a matter offive-and-thirty years, and, if that ain't enough to make a man sick ofbeing married, and of his wife, hand me, that's all. I say I am tired. "

This was said with much apparent sincerity, and several laughed at theold man's heartiness. 

"It's all very well, " said the old man; "it's all very well to laughabout matters you don't understand, but I know it isn't a joke--not abit on it. I tells you what it is, neighbour, I never made but one grandmistake in all my life. "

"And what was that?"

"To tie myself to a woman. "

"Why, you'd get married to-morrow if your wife were to die to-day, " saidone. 

"If I did, I hope I may marry a vampyre. I should have something then tothink about. I should know what's o'clock. But, as for my old woman, lord, lord, I wish Sir Francis Varney had had her for life. I'll warrantwhen the next natural term of his existence came round again, hewouldn't be in no hurry to renew it; if he did, I should say thatvampyres had the happy lot of managing women, which I haven't got. "

"No, nor anybody else. "

A loud shout now attracted their attention, and, upon looking in thequarter whence it came, they descried a large body of people comingtowards them; from one end of the mob could be seen along string of redcoats. 

"The red coats!" shouted one. 

"The military!" shouted another. 

It was plain the military who had been placed in the town to quelldisturbances, had been made acquainted with the proceedings at SirFrancis Varney's house, and were now marching to relieve the place, andto save the property. 

They were, as we have stated, accompanied by a vast concourse of people, who came out to see what they were going to see, and seeing the flamesat Sir Francis Varney's house, they determined to come all the way, andbe present. 

The military, seeing the disturbance in the distance, and the flamesissuing from the windows, made the best of their way towards the sceneof tumult with what speed they could make. 

"Here they come, " said one. 

"Yes, just in time to see what is done. "

"Yes, they can go back and say we have burned the vampyre's housedown--hurra!"

"Hurra!" shouted the mob, in prolonged accents, and it reached the earsof the military. 

The officer urged the men onwards, and they responded to his words, byexerting themselves to step out a little faster. 

"Oh, they should have been here before this; it's no use, now, they aretoo late. "

"Yes, they are too late. "

"I wonder if the vampyre can breathe through the smoke, and live infire, " said one. 

"I should think he must be able to do so, if he can stand shooting, aswe know he can--you can't kill a vampyre; but yet he must be consumed, if the fire actually touches him, but not unless he can bear almostanything. "

"So he can. "

"Hurra!" shouted the mob, as a tall flame shot through the top windowsof the house. 

The fire had got the ascendant now, and no hopes could be entertained, however extravagant, of saving the smallest article that had been leftin the mansion. 

"Hurra!" shouted the mob with the military, who came up with them. 

"Hurra!" shouted the others in reply. 

"Quick march!" said the officer; and then, in a loud, commanding tone, he shouted, "Clear the way, there! clear the way. "

"Ay, there's room enough for you, " said old Mason; "what are you makingso much noise about?"

There was a general laugh at the officer, who took no notice of thewords, but ordered his men up before the burning pile, which was now animmense mass of flame. 

The mob who had accompanied the military now mingled with the mob thathad set the house of Sir Francis Varney on fire ere the military hadcome up with them. 

"Halt!" cried out the officer; and the men, obedient to the word ofcommand, halted, and drew up in a double line before the house. 

There were then some words of command issued, and some more given tosome of the subalterns, and a party of men, under the command of asergeant, was sent off from the main body, to make a circuit of thehouse and grounds. 

The officer gazed for some moments upon the burning pile withoutspeaking; and then, turning to the next in command, he said in lowtones, as he looked upon the mob, --

"We have come too late. "

"Yes, much. "

"The house is now nearly gutted. "

"It is. "

"And those who came crowding along with us are inextricably mingled withthe others who have been the cause of all this mischief: there's nodistinguishing them one from another. "

"And if you did, you could not say who had done it, and who had not; youcould prove nothing. "

"Exactly. "

"I shall not attempt to take prisoners, unless any act is perpetratedbeyond what has been done. "

"It is a singular affair. "

"Very. "

"This Sir Francis Varney is represented to be a courteous, gentlemanlyman, " said the officer. 

"No doubt about it, but he's beset by a parcel of people who do not mindcutting a throat if they can get an opportunity of doing so. "

"And I expect they will. "

"Yes, when there is a popular excitement against any man, he had betterleave this part at once and altogether. It is dangerous to tamper withpopular prejudices; no man who has any value for his life ought to doso. It is a sheer act of suicide. "

CHAPTER LIV. 

THE BURNING OF VARNEY'S HOUSE. --A NIGHT SCENE. --POPULAR SUPERSTITION. 

[Illustration]

The officer ceased to speak, and then the party whom he had sent roundthe house and grounds returned, and gained the main body orderly enough, and the sergeant went forward to make his report to his superiorofficer. 

After the usual salutation, he waited for the inquiry to be put to himas to what he had seen. 

"Well, Scott, what have you done?"

"I went round the premises, sir, according to your instructions, but sawno one either in the vicinity of the house, or in the grounds aroundit. "

"No strangers, eh?"

"No, sir, none. "

"You saw nothing at all likely to lead to any knowledge as to who it wasthat has caused this catastrophe?"

"No, sir. "

"Have you learnt anything among the people who are the perpetrators ofthis fire?"

"No, sir. "

"Well, then, that will do, unless there is anything else that you canthink of. "

"Nothing further, sir, unless it is that I heard some of them say thatSir Francis Varney has perished in the flames. "

"Good heavens!"

"So I heard, sir. "

"That must be impossible, and yet why should it be so? Go back, Scott, and bring me some person who can give me some information upon thispoint. "

The sergeant departed toward the people, who looked at him without anydistrust, for he came single-handed, though they thought he came withthe intention of learning what they knew of each other, and so strollabout with the intention of getting up accusations against them. Butthis was not the case, the officer didn't like the work well enough;he'd rather have been elsewhere. 

[Illustration]

At length the sergeant came to one man, whom he accosted, and said tohim, --

"Do you know anything of yonder fire?"

"Yes: I do know it is a fire. "

"Yes, and so do I. "

"My friend, " said the sergeant, "when a soldier asks a question he doesnot expect an uncivil answer. "

"But a soldier may ask a question that may have an uncivil end to it. "

"He may; but it is easy to say so. "

"I do say so, then, now. "

"Then I'll not trouble you any more. "

The sergeant moved on a pace or two more, and then, turning to the mob, he said, --

"Is there any one among you who can tell me anything concerning the fateof Sir Francis Varney?"

"Burnt!"

"Did you see him burnt?"

"No; but I saw him. "

"In the flames?"

"No; before the house was on fire. "

"In the house?"

"Yes; and he has not been seen to leave it since, and we conclude hemust have been burned. "

"Will you come and say as much to my commanding officer? It is all Iwant. "

"Shall I be detained?"

"No. "

"Then I will go, " said the man, and he hobbled out of the crowd towardsthe sergeant. "I will go and see the officer, and tell him what I know, and that is very little, and can prejudice no one. "

"Hurrah!" said the crowd, when they heard this latter assertion; for, atfirst, they began to be in some alarm lest there should be somethingwrong about this, and some of them get identified as being active in thefray. 

The sergeant led the man back to the spot, where the officer stood alittle way in advance of his men. 

"Well, Scott, " he said, "what have we here?"

"A man who has volunteered a statement, sir. "

"Oh! Well, my man, can you say anything concerning all this disturbancethat we have here?"

"No, sir. "

"Then what did you come here for?"

"I understood the sergeant to want some one who could speak of SirFrancis Varney. "

"Well?"

"I saw him. "

"Where?"

"In the house. "

"Exactly; but have you not seen him out of it?"

"Not since; nor any one else, I believe. "

"Where was he?"

"Upstairs, where he suddenly disappeared, and nobody can tell where hemay have gone to. But he has not been seen out of the house since, andthey say he could not have gone bodily out if they had not seen him. "

"He must have been burnt, " said the officer, musingly; "he could notescape, one would imagine, without being seen by some one out of such amob. "

"Oh, dear no, for I am told they placed a watch at every hole, window, or door however high, and they saw nothing of him--not even fly out!"

"Fly out! I'm speaking of a man!"

"And I of a vampire!" said the man carelessly. 

"A vampyre! Pooh, pooh!"

"Oh no! Sir Francis Varney is a vampyre! There can be no sort of doubtabout it. You have only to look at him, and you will soon be satisfiedof that. See his great sharp teeth in front, and ask yourself what theyare for, and you will soon find the answer. They are to make holes within the bodies of his victims, through which he can suck their blood!"

The officer looked at the man in astonishment for a few moments, as ifhe doubted his own ears, and then he said, --

"Are you serious?"

"I am ready to swear to it. "

"Well, I have heard a great deal about popular superstition, and thoughtI had seen something of it; but this is decidedly the worst case thatever I saw or heard of. You had better go home, my man, than, by yourpresence, countenance such a gross absurdity. "

"For all that, " said the man, "Sir Francis Varney is a vampyre--ablood-sucker--a human blood-sucker!"

"Get away with you, " said the officer, "and do not repeat such follybefore any one. "

The man almost jumped when he heard the tone in which this was spoken, for the officer was both angry and contemptuous, when he heard the wordsof the man. 

"These people, " he added, turning to the sergeant, "are ignorant in theextreme. One would think we had got into the country of vampires, instead of a civilised community. "

The day was going down now; the last rays of the setting sun glimmeredupwards, and still shone upon the tree-tops. The darkness of night wasstill fast closing around them. The mob stood a motley mass of humanbeings, wedged together, dark and sombre, gazing upon the mischief thathad been done--the work of their hands. The military stood at easebefore the burning pile, and by their order and regularity, presented acontrast to the mob, as strongly by their bright gleaming arms, as bytheir dress and order. 

The flames now enveloped the whole mansion. There was not a window or adoor from which the fiery element did not burst forth in clouds, andforked flames came rushing forth with a velocity truly wonderful. 

The red glare of the flames fell upon all objects around for somedistance--the more especially so, as the sun had sunk, and a bank ofclouds rose from beneath the horizon and excluded all his rays; therewas no twilight, and there was, as yet, no moon. 

The country side was enveloped in darkness, and the burning house couldbe seen for miles around, and formed a rallying-point to all men's eyes. 

The engines that were within reach came tearing across the country, andcame to the fire; but they were of no avail. There was no supply ofwater, save from the ornamental ponds. These they could only get at bymeans that were tedious and unsatisfactory, considering the emergency ofthe case. 

The house was a lone one, and it was being entirely consumed before theyarrived, and therefore there was not the remotest chance of saving theleast article. Had they ever such a supply of water, nothing could havebeen effected by it. 

Thus the men stood idly by, passing their remarks upon the fire and themob. 

Those who stood around, and within the influence of the red glare of theflames, looked like so many demons in the infernal regions, watching theprogress of lighting the fire, which we are told by good Christians isthe doom of the unfortunate in spirit, and the woefully unlucky incircumstances. 

It was a strange sight that; and there were many persons who would, without doubt, have rather been snug by their own fire-side than theywould have remained there but it happened that no one felt inclined toexpress his inclination to his neighbour, and, consequently, no one saidanything on the subject. 

None would venture to go alone across the fields, where the spirit ofthe vampyre might, for all they knew to the contrary, be waiting topounce upon them, and worry them. 

No, no; no man would have quitted that mob to go back alone to thevillage; they would sooner have stood there all night through. That wasan alternative that none of the number would very willingly accept. 

The hours passed away, and the house that had been that morning a nobleand well-furnished mansion, was now a smouldering heap of ruins. Theflames had become somewhat subdued, and there was now more smoke thanflames. 

The fire had exhausted itself. There was now no more material that couldserve it for fuel, and the flames began to become gradually enoughsubdued. 

Suddenly there was a rush, and then a bright flame shot upward for aninstant, so bright and so strong, that it threw a flash of light overthe country for miles; but it was only momentary, and it subsided. 

The roof, which had been built strong enough to resist almost anything, after being burning for a considerable time, suddenly gave way, and camein with a tremendous crash, and then all was for a moment darkness. 

After this the fire might be said to be subdued, it having burned itselfout; and the flames that could now be seen were but the result of somuch charred wood, that would probably smoulder away for a day or two, if left to itself to do so. A dense mass of smoke arose from the ruins, and blackened the atmosphere around, and told the spectators the workwas done. 

CHAPTER LV. 

THE RETURN OF THE MOB AND MILITARY TO THE TOWN. --THE MADNESS OF THEMOB. --THE GROCER'S REVENGE. 

[Illustration]

On the termination of the conflagration, or, rather, the fall of theroof, with the loss of grandeur in the spectacle, men's minds began tobe free from the excitement that chained them to the spot, watching theprogress of that element which has been truly described as a very goodservant, but a very bad master; and of the truth of this every one mustbe well satisfied. 

There was now remaining little more than the livid glare of the hot andburning embers; and this did not extend far, for the walls were toostrongly built to fall in from their own weight; they were strong andstout, and intercepted the little light the ashes would have given out. 

The mob now began to feel fatigued and chilly. It had been standing andwalking about many hours, and the approach of exhaustion could not beput off much longer, especially as there was no longer any greatexcitement to carry it off. 

The officer, seeing that nothing was to be done, collected his mentogether, and they were soon seen in motion. He had been ordered to stopany tumult that he might have seen, and to save any property. But therewas nothing to do now; all the property that could have been saved wasnow destroyed, and the mob were beginning to disperse, and creep towardstheir own houses. 

The order was then given for the men to take close order, and keeptogether, and the word to march was given, which the men obeyed withalacrity, for they had no good-will in stopping there the whole of thenight. 

The return to the village of both the mob and the military was notwithout its vicissitudes; accidents of all kinds were rife amongst them;the military, however, taking the open paths, soon diminished thedistance, and that, too, with little or no accidents, save such as mighthave been expected from the state of the fields, after they had been somuch trodden down of late. 

Not so the townspeople or the peasantry; for, by way of keeping up theirspirits, and amusing themselves on their way home, they commencedlarking, as they called it, which often meant the execution of practicaljokes, and these sometimes were of a serious nature. 

The night was dark at that hour, especially so when there was a numberof persons traversing about, so that little or nothing could be seen. 

The mistakes and blunders that were made were numerous. In one placethere were a number of people penetrating a path that led only to ahedge and deep ditch; indeed it was a brook very deep and muddy. 

Here they came to a stop and endeavoured to ascertain its width, but thelittle reflected light they had was deceptive, and it did not appear sobroad as it was. 

"Oh, I can jump it, " exclaimed one. 

"And so can I, " said another. "I have done so before, and why should Inot do so now. "

This was unanswerable, and as there were many present, at least a dozenwere eager to jump. 

"If thee can do it, I know I can, " said a brawny countryman; "so I'll doit at once. 

"The sooner the better, " shouted some one behind, "or you'll have noroom for a run, here's a lot of 'em coming up; push over as quickly asyou can. "

Thus urged, the jumpers at once made a rush to the edge of the ditch, and many jumped, and many more, from the prevailing darkness, did notsee exactly where the ditch was, and taking one or two steps too many, found themselves up above the waist in muddy water. 

Nor were those who jumped much better off, for nearly all jumped shortor fell backwards into the stream, and were dragged out in a terriblestate. 

"Oh, lord! oh, lord!" exclaimed one poor fellow, dripping wet andshivering with cold, "I shall die! oh, the rheumatiz, there'll be apretty winter for me: I'm half dead. "

"Hold your noise, " said another, "and help me to get the mud out of myeye; I can't see. "

"Never mind, " added a third, "considering how you jump, I don't thinkyou want to see. "

"This comes a hunting vampyres. "

"Oh, it's all a judgment; who knows but he may be in the air: it isnothing to laugh at as I shouldn't be surprised if he were: only thinkhow precious pleasant. "

"However pleasant it may be to you, " remarked one, "it's profitable to agood many. "

"How so?"

"Why, see the numbers, of things that will be spoiled, coats torn, hatscrushed, heads broken, and shoes burst. Oh, it's an ill-wind that blowsnobody any good. "

"So it is, but you may benefit anybody you like, so you don't do it atmy expence. "

In one part of a field where there were some stiles and gates, a bigcountryman caught a fat shopkeeper with the arms of the stile a terriblepoke in the stomach; while the breath was knocked out of the poor man'sstomach, and he was gasping with agony, the fellow set to laughing, andsaid to his companions, who were of the same class--

"I say, Jim, look at the grocer, he hasn't got any wind to spare, I'drun him for a wager, see how he gapes like a fish out of water. "

The poor shopkeeper felt indeed like a fish out of water, and as heafterwards declared he felt just as if he had had a red hot clock weightthrust into the midst of his stomach and there left to cool. 

However, the grocer would be revenged upon his tormentor, who had nowlost sight of him, but the fat man, after a time, recovering his wind, and the pain in his stomach becoming less intense, he gathered himselfup. 

"My name ain't Jones, " he muttered, "if I don't be one to his one forthat; I'll do something that shall make him remember what it is toinsult a respectable tradesman. I'll never forgive such an insult. It isdark, and that's why it is he has dared to do this. "

Filled with dire thoughts and a spirit of revenge, he looked from sideto side to see with what he could effect his object, but could espynothing. 

"It's shameful, " he muttered; "what would I give for a little retort. I'd plaster his ugly countenance. "

As he spoke, he placed his hands on some pales to rest himself, when hefound that they stuck to them, the pales had that day been newlypitched. 

A bright idea now struck him. 

"If I could only get a handful of this stuff, " he thought, "I should beable to serve him out for serving me out. I will, cost what it may; I'mresolved upon that. I'll not have my wind knocked out, and my inside seton fire for nothing. No, no; I'll be revenged on him. "

With this view he felt over the pales, and found that he could scrapeoff a little only, but not with his hands; indeed, it only plasteredthem; he, therefore, marched about for something to scrape it off with. 

"Ah; I have a knife, a large pocket knife, that will do, that is thesort of thing I want. "

He immediately commenced feeling for it, but had scarcely got his handinto his pocket when he found there would be a great difficulty ineither pushing it in further or withdrawing it altogether, for the pitchmade it difficult to do either, and his pocket stuck to his hands like aglove. 

"D--n it, " said the grocer, "who would have thought of that? here's apretty go, curse that fellow, he is the cause of all this; I'll berevenged upon him, if it's a year hence. "

The enraged grocer drew his hand out, but was unable to effect hisobject in withdrawing the knife also; but he saw something shining, hestooped to pick it up, exclaiming as he did so, in a gratified tone ofvoice, "Ah, here's something that will do better. "

As he made a grasp at it, he found he had inserted his hand intosomething soft. 

"God bless me! what now?"

He pulled his hand hastily away, and found that it stuck slightly, andthen he saw what it was. 

"Ay, ay, the very thing. Surely it must have been placed here on purposeby the people. "

The fact was, he had placed his hand into a pot of pitch that had beenleft by the people who had been at work at pitching the pales, but hadbeen attracted by the fire at Sir Francis Varney's, and to see whichthey had left their work, and the pitch was left on a smouldering peatfire, so that when Mr. Jones, the grocer, accidentally put his hand intoit he found it just warm. 

When he made this discovery he dabbed his hand again into the pitch-pot, exclaiming, --

"In for a penny, in for a pound. "

And he endeavoured to secure as large a handful of the slippery andsticky stuff as he could, and this done he set off to come up with thebig countryman who had done him so much indignity and made his stomachuncomfortable. 

He soon came up with him, for the man had stopped rather behind, and waslarking, as it is called, with some men, to whom he was a companion. 

He had slipped down a bank, and was partially sitting down on the softmud. In his bustle, the little grocer came down with a slide, close tothe big countryman. 

"Ah--ah! my little grocer, " said the countryman, holding out his hand tocatch him, and drawing him towards himself. "You will come and sit downby the side of your old friend. "

As he spoke, he endeavoured to pull Mr. Jones down, too; but thatindividual only replied by fetching the countryman a swinging smackacross the face with the handful of pitch. 

"There, take that; and now we are quits; we shall be old friends afterthis, eh? Are you satisfied? You'll remember me, I'll warrant. "

As the grocer spoke, he rubbed his hands over the face of the fallenman, and then rushed from the spot with all the haste he could make. 

The countryman sat a moment or two confounded, cursing, and swearing, and spluttering, vowing vengeance, believing that it was mud only thathad been plastered over his face; but when he put his hands up, andfound out what it was, he roared and bellowed like a town-bull. 

He cried out to his companions that his eyes were pitched: but they onlylaughed at him, thinking he was having some foolish lark with them. 

It was next day before he got home, for he wandered about all night: andit took him a week to wash the pitch off by means of grease; and everafterwards he recollected the pitching of his face; nor did he everforget the grocer. 

Thus it was the whole party returned a long while after dark across thefields, with all the various accidents that were likely to befal such anassemblage of people. 

The vampyre hunting cost many of them dear, for clothes were injured onall sides: hats lost, and shoes missing in a manner that put some of therioters to much inconvenience. Soon afterwards, the military retired totheir quarters; and the townspeople at length became tranquil andnothing more was heard or done that night. 

CHAPTER LVI. 

THE DEPARTURE OF THE BANNERWORTHS FROM THE HALL. --THE NEW ABODE. --JACKPRINGLE, PILOT. 

[Illustration]

During that very evening, on which the house of Sir Francis Varney wasfired by the mob, another scene, and one of different character, wasenacted at Bannerworth Hall, where the owners of that ancient place weredeparting from it. 

It was towards the latter part of the day, that Flora Bannerworth, Mrs. Bannerworth, and Henry Bannerworth, were preparing themselves to departfrom the house of their ancestors. The intended proprietor was, as wehave already been made acquainted with, the old admiral, who had takenthe place somewhat mysteriously, considering the way in which he usuallydid business. 

The admiral was walking up and down the lawn before the house, andlooking up at the windows every now and then; and turning to JackPringle, he said, --

"Jack, you dog. "

"Ay--ay, sir. "

"Mind you convoy these women into the right port; do you hear? and nomistaking the bearings; do you hear?"

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"These crafts want care; and you are pilot, commander, and all; so mindand keep your weather eye open. "

"Ay, ay, sir. I knows the craft well enough, and I knows the roads, too;there'll be no end of foundering against the breakers to find where theylie. "

"No, no, Jack; you needn't do that; but mind your bearings. Jack, mindyour bearings. "

"Never fear; I know 'em, well enough; my eyes ain't laid up in ordinaryyet. "

"Eh? What do you mean by that, you dog, eh?"

"Nothing; only I can see without helps to read, or glasses either; so Iknow one place from another. "

There was now some one moving within; and the admiral, followed by JackPringle, entered the Hall. Henry Bannerworth was there. They were allready to go when the coach came for them, which the admiral had orderedfor them. 

"Jack, you lubber; where are you?"

"Ay, ay, sir, here am I. "

"Go, and station yourself up in some place where you can keep a goodlook-out for the coach, and come and report when you see it. "

"Ay--ay, sir, " said Jack, and away he went from the room, and stationedhimself up in one of the trees, that commanded a good view of the mainroad for some distance. 

"Admiral Bell, " said Henry, "here we are, trusting implicitly to you;and in doing so, I am sure I am doing right. "

"You will see that, " said the admiral. "All's fair and honest as yet;and what is to come, will speak for itself. "

"I hope you won't suffer from any of these nocturnal visits, " saidHenry. 

"I don't much care about them; but old Admiral Bell don't strike hiscolours to an enemy, however ugly he may look. No, no; it must be abetter craft than his own that'll take him; and one who won't run away, but that will grapple yard-arm and yard-arm, you know. "

"Why, admiral, you must have seen many dangers in your time, and be usedto all kinds of disturbances and conflicts. You have had a life ofexperience. "

"Yes; and experience has come pretty thick sometimes, I can tell you, when it comes in the shape of Frenchmen's broadsides. "

"I dare say, then, it must be rather awkward. "

"Death by the law, " said the admiral, "to stop one of them with yourhead, I assure you. I dare not make the attempt myself, though I haveoften seen it done. "

"I dare say; but here are Flora and my mother. "

As he spoke, Flora and her mother entered the apartment. 

"Well, admiral, we are all ready; and, though I may feel somewhat sorryat leaving the old Hall, yet it arises from attachment to the place, andnot any disinclination to be beyond the reach of these dreadful alarms. "

"And I, too, shall be by no means sorry, " said Flora; "I am sure it issome gratification to know we leave a friend here, rather than someothers, who would have had the place, if they could have got it, by anymeans. "

"Ah, that's true enough, Miss Flora, " said the admiral; "but we'll runthe enemy down yet, depend upon it. But once away, you will be free fromthese terrors; and now, as you have promised, do not let yourselves beseen any where at all. "

"You have our promises, admiral; and they shall be religiously kept, Ican assure you. "

"Boat, ahoy--ahoy!" shouted Jack. 

"What boat?" said the admiral, surprised; and then he muttered, "Confound you for a lubber! Didn't I tell you to mind your bearings, youdog-fish you?"

"Ay, ay, sir--and so I did. "

"You did. "

"Yes, here they are. Squint over the larboard bulk-heads, as they callwalls, and then atween the two trees on the starboard side of thecourse, then straight ahead for a few hundred fathoms, when you come toa funnel as is smoking like the crater of Mount Vesuvius, and then in aline with that on the top of the hill, comes our boat. "

"Well, " said the admiral, "that'll do. Now go open the gates, and keep abright look out, and if you see anybody near your watch, why douse theirglim. "

"Ay--ay, sir, " said Jack, and he disappeared. 

"Rather a lucid description, " said Henry, as he thought of Jack's reportto the admiral. 

"Oh, it's a seaman's report. I know what he means; it's quicker andplainer than the land lingo, to my ears, and Jack can't talk any other, you see. "

By this time the coach came into the yard, and the whole party descendedinto the court-yard, where they came to take leave of the old place. 

"Farewell, admiral. "

"Good bye, " said the admiral. "I hope the place you are going to will besuch as please you--I hope it will. "

"I am sure we shall endeavour to be pleased with it, and I am prettysure we shall. "

"Good bye. "

"Farewell, Admiral Bell, " said Henry. 

"You remember your promises?"

"I do. Good bye, Mr. Chillingworth. "

"Good bye, " said Mr. Chillingworth, who came up to bid them farewell; "apleasant journey, and may you all be the happier for it. "

"You do not come with us?"

"No; I have some business of importance to attend to, else I should havethe greatest pleasure in doing so. But good bye; we shall not be longapart, I dare say. "

"I hope not, " said Henry. 

The door of the carriage was shut by the admiral, who looked round, saying, --

"Jack--Jack Pringle, where are you, you dog?"

"Here am I, " said Jack. 

"Where have you been to?"

"Only been for pigtail, " said Jack. "I forgot it, and couldn't set sailwithout it. "

"You dog you; didn't I tell you to mind your bearings?"

"So I will, " said Jack, "fore and aft--fore and aft, admiral. "

"You had better, " said the admiral, who, however, relaxed into a broadgrin, which he concealed from Jack Pringle. 

Jack mounted the coach-box, and away it went, just as it was gettingdark. The old admiral had locked up all the rooms in the presence ofHenry Bannerworth; and when the coach had gone out of sight, Mr. Chillingworth came back to the Hall, where he joined the admiral. 

"Well, " he said, "they are gone, Admiral Bell, and we are alone; we havea clear stage and no favour. "

"The two things of all others I most desire. Now, they will be strangerswhere they are going to, and that will be something gained. I willendeavour to do some thing if I get yard-arm and yard-arm with thesepirates. I'll make 'em feel the weight of true metal; I'll board'em--d----e, I'll do everything. "

"Everything that can be done. "

"Ay--ay. "

 * * * * *

The coach in which the family of the Bannerworths were carried awaycontinued its course without any let or hindrance, and they met no oneon their road during the whole drive. The fact was, nearly everybody wasat the conflagration at Sir Francis Varney's house. 

Flora knew not which way they were going, and, after a time, all traceof the road was lost. Darkness set in, and they all sat in silence inthe coach. 

At length, after some time had been spent thus, Flora Bannerworth turnedto Jack Pringle, and said, --

"Are we near, or have we much further to go?"

"Not very much, ma'am, " said Jack. "All's right, however--ship in thedirect course, and no breakers ahead--no lookout necessary; howeverthere's a land-lubber aloft to keep a look out. "

As this was not very intelligible, and Jack seemed to have his ownreasons for silence, they asked him no further questions; but in aboutthree-quarters of an hour, during which time the coach had been drivingthrough the trees, they came to a standstill by a sudden pull of thecheck-string from Jack, who said, --

"Hilloa!--take in sails, and drop anchor. "

"Is this the place?"

"Yes, here we are, " said Jack; "we're in port now, at all events;" andhe began to sing, --

 "The trials and the dangers of the voyage is past, "

when the coach door opened, and they all got out and looked about themwhere they were. 

"Up the garden if you please, ma'am--as quick as you can; the night airis very cold. "

Flora and her mother and brother took the hint, which was meant by Jackto mean that they were not to be seen outside. They at once entered apretty garden, and then they came to a very neat and picturesquecottage. They had no time to look up at it, as the door was immediatelyopened by an elderly female, who was intended to wait upon them. 

Soon after, Jack Pringle and the coachman entered the passage with thesmall amount of luggage which they had brought with them. This wasdeposited in the passage, and then Jack went out again, and, after a fewminutes, there was the sound of wheels, which intimated that the coachhad driven off. 

Jack, however, returned in a few minutes afterwards, having secured thewicket-gate at the end of the garden, and then entered the house, shutting the door carefully after him. 

Flora and her mother looked over the apartments in which they were shownwith some surprise. It was, in everything, such as they could wish;indeed, though it could not be termed handsomely or extravagantlyfurnished, or that the things were new, yet, there was all thatconvenience and comfort could require, and some little of the luxuries. 

"Well, " said Flora, "this is very thoughtful of the admiral. The placewill really be charming, and the garden, too, delightful. "

"Mustn't be made use of just now, " said Jack, "if you please, ma'am;them's the orders at present. "

"Very well, " said Flora, smiling. "I suppose, Mr. Pringle, we must obeythem. "

"Jack Pringle, if you please, " said Jack. "My commands only temporary. Iain't got a commission. "

CHAPTER LVII. 

THE LONELY WATCH, AND THE ADVENTURE IN THE DESERTED HOUSE. 

[Illustration]

It is now quite night, and so peculiar and solemn a stillness reigns inand about Bannerworth Hall and its surrounding grounds, that one mighthave supposed it a place of the dead, deserted completely after sunsetby all who would still hold kindred with the living. There was not abreath of air stirring, and this circumstance added greatly to theimpression of profound repose which the whole scene exhibited. 

The wind during the day had been rather of a squally character, buttowards nightfall, as is often usual after a day of such a character, ithad completely lulled, and the serenity of the scene was unbroken evenby the faintest sigh from a wandering zephyr. 

The moon rose late at that period, and as is always the case at thatinterval between sunset and the rising of that luminary which makes thenight so beautiful, the darkness was of the most profound character. 

It was one of those nights to produce melancholy reflections--a night onwhich a man would be apt to review his past life, and to look into thehidden recesses of his soul to see if conscience could make a coward ofhim in the loneliness and stillness that breathed around. 

It was one of those nights in which wanderers in the solitude of naturefeel that the eye of Heaven is upon them, and on which there seems to bea more visible connection between the world and its great Creator thanupon ordinary occasions. 

The solemn and melancholy appear places once instinct with life, whendeserted by those familiar forms and faces that have long inhabitedthem. There is no desert, no uninhabited isle in the far ocean, no wild, barren, pathless tract of unmitigated sterility, which could for onemoment compare in point of loneliness and desolation to a deserted city. 

Strip London, mighty and majestic as it is, of the busy swarm ofhumanity that throng its streets, its suburbs, its temples, its publicedifices, and its private dwellings, and how awful would be the walk ofone solitary man throughout its noiseless thoroughfares. 

[Illustration]

If madness seized not upon him ere he had been long the sole survivor ofa race, it would need be cast in no common mould. 

And to descend from great things to smaller--from the huge leviathancity to one mansion far removed from the noise and bustle ofconventional life, we way imagine the sort of desolation that reignedthrough Bannerworth Hall, when, for the first time, after nearly ahundred and fifty years of occupation, it was deserted by therepresentatives of that family, so many members of which had lived anddied beneath its roof. The house, and everything within, without, andaround it, seemed actually to sympathize with its own desolation anddesertion. 

It seemed as if twenty years of continued occupation could not haveproduced such an effect upon the ancient edifice as had those few hoursof neglect and desertion. 

And yet it was not as if it had been stripped of those time-worn andancient relics of ornament and furnishing that so long had appertainedto it. No, nothing but the absence of those forms which had beenaccustomed quietly to move from room to room, and to be met here upon astaircase, there upon a corridor, and even in some of the ancientpanelled apartments, which give it an air of dreary repose andlistlessness. 

The shutters, too, were all closed, and that circumstance contributedlargely to the production of that gloomy effect which otherwise couldnot have ensued. 

In fact, what could be done without attracting very special observationwas done to prove to any casual observer that the house was untenanted. 

But such was not really the case. In that very room where the muchdreaded Varney the vampyre had made one of his dreaded appearances toFlora Bannerworth and her mother, sat two men. 

It was from that apartment that Flora had discharged the pistol, whichhad been left to her by her brother, and the shot from which it wasbelieved by the whole family had most certainly taken effect upon theperson of the vampyre. 

It was a room peculiarly accessible from the gardens, for it had longFrench windows opening to the very ground, and but a stone stepintervened between the flooring of the apartment and a broad gravel walkwhich wound round that entire portion of the house. 

It was in this room, then, that two men sat in silence, and nearly indarkness. 

Before them, and on a table, were several articles of refreshment, aswell of defence and offence, according as their intentions might be. 

There were a bottle and three glasses, and lying near the elbow of oneof the men was a large pair of pistols, such as might have adorned thebelt of some desperate character, who wished to instil an opinion of hisprowess into his foes by the magnitude of his weapons. 

Close at hand, by the same party, lay some more modern fire arms, aswell as a long dirk, with a silver mounted handle. 

The light they had consisted of a large lantern, so constructed with aslide, that it could be completely obscured at a moment's notice; butnow as it was placed, the rays that were allowed to come from it weredirected as much from the window of the apartment, as possible, and fellupon the faces of the two men, revealing them to be Admiral Bell and Dr. Chillingworth. 

It might have been the effect of the particular light in which he sat, but the doctor looked extremely pale, and did not appear at all at hisease. 

The admiral, on the contrary, appeared in as placable a state of mind aspossible and had his arms folded across his breast, and his head shrunkdown between his shoulders as if he had made up his mind to somethingthat was to last a long time, and, therefore he was making the best ofit. 

"I do hope, " said Mr. Chillingworth, after a long pause, "that ourefforts will be crowned with success--you know, my dear sir, that I havealways been of your opinion, that there was a great deal more in thismatter than met the eye. "

"To be sure, " said the admiral, "and as to our efforts being crownedwith success, why, I'll give you a toast, doctor, 'may the morning'sreflection provide for the evening's amusement. '"

"Ha! ha!" said Chillingworth, faintly; "I'd rather not drink any more, and you seem, admiral, to have transposed the toast in some way. Ibelieve it runs, 'may the evening's amusement bear the morning'sreflection. '"

"Transpose the devil!" said the admiral; "what do I care how it runs? Igave you my toast, and as to that you mention, it's another onealtogether, and a sneaking, shore-going one too: but why don't youdrink?"

"Why, my dear sir, medically speaking, I am strongly of opinion that, when the human stomach is made to contain a large quantity of alcohol, it produces bad effects upon the system. Now, I've certainly taken oneglass of this infernally strong Hollands, and it is now lying in mystomach like the red-hot heater of a tea-urn. "

"Is it? put it out with another, then. "

"Ay, I'm afraid that would not answer, but do you really think, admiral, that we shall effect anything by waiting here, and keeping watch andward, not under the most comfortable circumstances, this first night ofthe Hall being empty. "

"Well, I don't know that we shall, " said the admiral; "but when youreally want to steal a march upon the enemy, there is nothing likebeginning betimes. We are both of opinion that Varney's great objectthroughout has been, by some means or another, to get possession of thehouse. "

"Yes; true, true. "

"We know that he has been unceasing in his endeavours to get theBannerworth family out of it; that he has offered them their own priceto become its tenant, and that the whole gist of his quiet and placidinterview with Flora in the garden, was to supply her with a new set ofreasons for urging her mother and brother to leave Bannerworth Hall, because the old ones were certainly not found sufficient. "

"True, true, most true, " said Mr. Chillingworth, emphatically. "Youknow, sir, that from the first time you broached that view of thesubject to me, how entirely I coincided with you. "

"Of course you did, for you are a honest fellow, and a right-thinkingfellow, though you are a doctor, and I don't know that I like doctorsmuch better than I like lawyers--they're only humbugs in a differentsort of way. But I wish to be liberal; there is such a thing as anhonest lawyer, and, d----e, you're an honest doctor!"

"Of course I'm much obliged, admiral, for your good opinion. I only wishit had struck me to bring something of a solid nature in the shape offood, to sustain the waste of the animal economy during the hours weshall have to wait here. "

"Don't trouble yourself about that, " said the admiral. "Do you think I'ma donkey, and would set out on a cruise without victualling my ship? Ishould think not. Jack Pringle will be here soon, and he has my ordersto bring in something to eat. "

"Well, " said the doctor, "that's very provident of you, admiral, and Ifeel personally obliged; but tell me, how do you intend to conduct thewatch?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I mean, if we sit here with the window fastened so as to preventour light from being seen, and the door closed, how are we by anypossibility to know if the house is attacked or not?"

"Hark'ee, my friend, " said the admiral; "I've left a weak point for theenemy. "

"A what, admiral?"

"A weak point. I've taken good care to secure everything but one of thewindows on the ground floor, and that I've left open, or so nearly open, that it will look like the most natural place in the world to get in at. Now, just inside that window, I've placed a lot of the family crockery. I'll warrant, if anybody so much as puts his foot in, you'll hear thesmash;--and, d----e, there it is!"

There was a loud crash at this moment, followed by a succession ofsimilar sounds, but of a lesser degree; and both the admiral and Mr. Chillingworth sprung to their feet. 

"Come on, " cried the former; "here'll be a precious row--take thelantern. "

Mr. Chillingworth did so, but he did not seem possessed of a great dealof presence of mind; for, before they got out of the room, he twiceaccidentally put on the dark slide, and produced a total darkness. 

"D--n!" said the admiral; "don't make it wink and wink in that way; holdit up, and run after me as hard as you can. "

"I'm coming, I'm coming, " said Mr. Chillingworth. 

It was one of the windows of a long room, containing five, fronting thegarden, which the admiral had left purposely unguarded; and it was notfar from the apartment in which they had been sitting, so that, probably, not half a minute's time elapsed between the moment of thefirst alarm, and their reaching the spot from whence it was presumed toarise. 

The admiral had armed himself with one of the huge pistols, and hedashed forward, with all the vehemence of his character, towards thewindow, where he knew he had placed the family crockery, and where hefully expected to meet the reward of his exertion by discovering someone lying amid its fragments. 

In this, however, he was disappointed; for, although there was evidentlya great smash amongst the plates and dishes, the window remained closed, and there was no indication whatever of the presence of any one. 

"Well, that's odd, " said the admiral; "I balanced them up amazinglycareful, and two of 'em edgeways--d---e, a fly would have knocked themdown. "

"Mew, " said, a great cat, emerging from under a chair. 

"Curse you, there you are, " said the admiral. "Put out the light, putout the light; here we're illuminating the whole house for nothing. "

With, a click went the darkening slide over the lantern, and all wasobscurity. 

At that instant a shrill, clear whistle came from the garden. 

CHAPTER LVIII. 

THE ARRIVAL OF JACK PRINGLE. --MIDNIGHT AND THE VAMPYRE. --THE MYSTERIOUSHAT. 

[Illustration]

"Bless me! what is that?" said Mr. Chillingworth; "what a very singularsound. "

"Hold your noise, " said the admiral; "did you never hear that before?"

"No; how should I?"

"Lor, bless the ignorance of some people, that's a boatswain's call. "

"Oh, it is, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "is he going to call again?"

"D----e, I tell ye it's a boatswain's call. "

"Well, then, d----e, if it comes to that, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "whatdoes he call here for?"

The admiral disdained an answer; but demanding the lantern, he openedit, so that there was a sufficient glimmering of light to guide him, andthen walked from the room towards the front door of the Hall. 

He asked no questions before he opened it, because, no doubt, the signalwas preconcerted; and Jack Pringle, for it was he indeed who hadarrived, at once walked in, and the admiral barred the door with thesame precision with which it was before secured. 

"Well, Jack, " he said, "did you see anybody?"

"Ay, ay, sir, " said Jack. 

"Why, ye don't mean that--where?"

"Where I bought the grub; a woman--"

"D----e, you're a fool, Jack. "

"You're another. "

"Hilloa, ye scoundrel, what d'ye mean by talking to me in that way? isthis your respect for your superiors?"

"Ship's been paid off long ago, " said Jack, "and I ain't got nosuperiors. I ain't a marine or a Frenchman. "

"Why, you're drunk. "

"I know it; put that in your eye. "

"There's a scoundrel. Why, you know-nothing-lubber, didn't I tell you tobe careful, and that everything depended upon secrecy and caution? anddidn't I tell you, above all this, to avoid drink?"

"To be sure you did. "

"And yet you come here like a rum cask. "

"Yes; now you've had your say, what then?"

"You'd better leave him alone, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "it's no usearguing with a drunken man. "

"Harkye, admiral, " said Jack, steadying himself as well as he could. "I've put up with you a precious long while, but I won't no longer;you're so drunk, now, that you keeping bobbing up and down like themizen gaff in a storm--that's my opinion--tol de rol. "

"Let him alone, let him alone, " urged Mr. Chillingworth. 

"The villain, " said the admiral; "he's enough to ruin everything; now, who would have thought that? but it's always been the way with him for amatter of twenty years--he never had any judgment in his drink. When itwas all smooth sailing, and nothing to do, and the fellow might have gotan extra drop on board, which nobody would have cared for, he's as soberas a judge; but, whenever there's anything to do, that wants a littlecleverness, confound him, he ships rum enough to float a seventy-four. "

"Are you going to stand anything to drink, " said Jack, "my old buffer?Do you recollect where you got your knob scuttled off Beyrout--how youfell on your latter end and tried to recollect your church cateckis, youold brute?--I's ashamed of you. Do you recollect the brown girl youbought for thirteen bob and a tanner, at the blessed Society Islands, and sold her again for a dollar, to a nigger seven feet two, in hisnatural pumps? you're a nice article, you is, to talk of marines andswabs, and shore-going lubbers, blow yer. Do you recollect the littleFrenchman that told ye he'd pull your blessed nose, and I advised you tosoap it? do you recollect Sall at Spithead, as you got in at a port holeof the state cabin, all but her behind?"

"Death and the devil!" said the admiral, breaking from the grasp of Mr. Chillingworth. 

"Ay, " said Jack, "you'll come to 'em both one of these days, old cock, and no mistake. "

"I'll have his life, I'll have his life, " roared the admiral. 

"Nay, nay, sir, " said Mr. Chillingworth, catching the admiral round thewaist. "My dear sir, recollect, now, if I may venture to advise you, Admiral Bell, there's a lot of that fiery hollands you know, in the nextroom; set firm down to that, and finish him off. I'll warrant him, he'llbe quiet enough. "

"What's that you say?" cried Jack--"hollands!--who's got any?--next torum and Elizabeth Baker, if I has an affection, it's hollands. "

"Jack!" said the admiral. 

"Ay, ay, sir!" said Jack, instinctively. 

"Come this way. "

Jack staggered after him, and they all reached the room where theadmiral and Mr. Chillingworth had been sitting before the alarm. 

"There!" said the admiral, putting the light upon the table, andpointing to the bottle; "what do you think of that?"

"I never thinks under such circumstances, " said Jack. "Here's to thewooden walls of old England!"

He seized the bottle, and, putting its neck into his mouth, for a fewmoments nothing was heard but a gurgling sound of the liquor passingdown his throat; his head went further and further back, until, at last, over he went, chair and bottle and all, and lay in a helpless state ofintoxication on the floor. 

"So far, so good, " said the admiral. "He's out of the way, at allevents. "

"I'll just loosen his neckcloth, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "and thenwe'll go and sit somewhere else; and I should recommend that, ifanywhere, we take up our station in that chamber, once Flora's, wherethe mysterious panelled portrait hangs, that bears so strong aresemblance to Varney, the vampyre. "

"Hush!" said the admiral. "What's that?"

They listened for a moment intently; and then, distinctly, upon thegravel path outside the window, they heard a footstep, as if some personwere walking along, not altogether heedlessly, but yet without any verygreat amount of caution or attention to the noise he might make. 

"Hist!" said the doctor. "Not a word. They come. "

"What do you say they for?" said the admiral. 

"Because something seems to whisper me that Mr. Marchdale knows more ofVarney, the vampyre, than ever he has chosen to reveal. Put out thelight. "

"Yes, yes--that'll do. The moon has risen; see how it streams throughthe chinks of the shutters. "

"No, no--it's not in that direction, or our light would have betrayedus. Do you not see the beams come from that half glass-door leading tothe greenhouse?"

"Yes; and there's the footstep again, or another. "

Tramp, tramp came a footfall again upon the gravel path, and, as before, died away upon their listening ears. 

"What do you say now, " said Mr. Chillingworth--"are there not two?"

"If they were a dozen, " said the admiral, "although we have lost one ofour force, I would tackle them. Let's creep on through the rooms in thedirection the footsteps went. "

"My life on it, " said Mr. Chillingworth as they left the apartment, "ifthis be Varney, he makes for that apartment where Flora slept, and whichhe knows how to get admission to. I've studied the house well, admiral, and to get to that window any one from here outside must take aconsiderable round. Come on--we shall be beforehand. "

"A good idea--a good idea. Be it so. "

Just allowing themselves sufficient light to guide them on the way fromthe lantern, they hurried on with as much precipitation as theintricacies of the passage would allow, nor halted till they had reachedthe chamber were hung the portrait which bore so striking and remarkablea likeness to Varney, the vampyre. 

They left the lamp outside the door, so that not even a straggling beamfrom it could betray that there were persons on the watch; and then, asquietly as foot could fall, they took up their station among thehangings of the antique bedstead, which has been before alluded to inthis work as a remarkable piece of furniture appertaining to thatapartment. 

"Do you think, " said the admiral, "we've distanced them?"

"Certainly we have. It's unlucky that the blind of the window is down. "

"Is it? By Heaven, there's a d----d strange-looking shadow creeping overit. "

Mr. Chillingworth looked almost with suspended breath. Even he could notaltogether get rid of a tremulous feeling, as he saw that the shadow ofa human form, apparently of very large dimensions, was on the outside, with the arms spread out, as if feeling for some means of opening thewindow. 

It would have been easy now to have fired one of the pistols direct uponthe figure; but, somehow or another, both the admiral and Mr. Chillingworth shrank from that course, and they felt much ratherinclined to capture whoever might make his appearance, only using theirpistols as a last resource, than gratuitously and at once to resort toviolence. 

"Who should you say that was?" whispered the admiral. 

"Varney, the vampyre. "

"D----e, he's ill-looking and big enough for anything--there's a noise!"

There was a strange cracking sound at the window, as if a pane of glasswas being very stealthily and quietly broken; and then the blind wasagitated slightly, confusing much the shadow that was cast upon it, asif the hand of some person was introduced for the purpose of effecting acomplete entrance into the apartment. 

"He's coming in, " whispered the admiral. 

"Hush, for Heaven's sake!" said Mr. Chillingworth; "you will alarm him, and we shall lose the fruit of all the labour we have already bestowedupon the matter; but did you not say something, admiral, about lyingunder the window and catching him by the leg?"

"Why, yes; I did. "

"Go and do it, then; for, as sure as you are a living man, his leg willbe in in a minute. "

"Here goes, " said the admiral; "I never suggest anything which I'munwilling to do myself. "

Whoever it was that now was making such strenuous exertions to get intothe apartment seemed to find some difficulty as regarded the fasteningsof the window, and as this difficulty increased, the patience of theparty, as well as his caution deserted him, and the casement was rattledwith violence. 

With a far greater amount of caution than any one from a knowledge ofhis character would have given him credit for, the admiral crept forwardand laid himself exactly under the window. 

The depth of wood-work from the floor to the lowest part of thewindow-frame did not exceed above two feet; to that any one couldconveniently step in from the balcony outride on to the floor of theapartment, which was just what he who was attempting to effect anentrance was desirous of doing. 

It was quite clear that, be he who he might, mortal or vampyre, he hadsome acquaintance with the fastening of the window; for now he succeededin moving it, and the sash was thrown open. 

The blind was still an obstacle; but a vigorous pull from the intruderbrought that down on the prostrate admiral; and then Mr. Chillingworthsaw, by the moonlight, a tall, gaunt figure standing in the balcony, asif just hesitating for a moment whether to get head first or feet firstinto the apartment. 

Had he chosen the former alternative he would need, indeed, to have beenendowed with more than mortal powers of defence and offence to escapecapture, but his lucky star was in the ascendancy, and he put his footin first. 

He turned his side to the apartment and, as he did so, the blightmoonlight fell upon his face, enabling Mr. Chillingworth to see, withoutthe shadow of a doubt, that it was, indeed, Varney, the vampyre, who wasthus stealthily making his entrance into Bannerworth Hall, according tothe calculation which had been made by the admiral upon that subject. The doctor scarcely knew whether to be pleased or not at this discovery;it was almost a terrifying one, sceptical as he was upon the subject ofvampyres, and he waited breathless for the issue of the singular andperilous adventure. 

No doubt Admiral Bell deeply congratulated himself upon the successwhich was about to crown his stratagem for the capture of the intruder, be he who he might, and he writhed with impatience for the foot to comesufficiently near him to enable him to grasp it. 

His patience was not severely tried, for in another moment it restedupon his chest. 

"Boarders a hoy!" shouted the admiral, and at once he laid hold of thetrespasser. "Yard-arm to yard-arm, I think I've got you now. Here's aprize, doctor! he shall go away without his leg if he goes away now. Eh!what! the light--d----e, he has--Doctor, the light! the light! Whywhat's this?--Hilloa, there!"

Dr. Chillingworth sprang into the passage, and procured the light--inanother moment he was at the side of the admiral, and the lantern slidebeing thrown back, he saw at once the dilemma into which his friend hadfallen. 

There he lay upon his back, grasping, with the vehemence of an embracethat had in it much of the ludicrous, a long boot, from which theintruder had cleverly slipped his leg, leaving it as a poor trophy inthe hands of his enemies. 

"Why you've only pulled his boot off, " said the doctor; "and now he'sgone for good, for he knows what we're about, and has slipped throughyour fingers. "

Admiral Bell sat up and looked at the boot with a rueful countenance. 

"Done again!" he said. 

"Yes, you are done, " said the doctor; "why didn't you lay hold of theleg while you were about it, instead of the boot? Admiral, are theseyour tactics?"

"Don't be a fool, " said the admiral; "put out the light and give me thepistols, or blaze away yourself into the garden; a chance shot may dosomething. It's no use running after him; a stern chase is a long chase;but fire away. "

As if some parties below had heard him give the word, two loud reportsfrom the garden immediately ensued, and a crash of glass testified tothe fact that some deadly missile had entered the room. 

"Murder!" said the doctor, and he fell flat upon his back. "I don't likethis at all; it's all in your line, admiral, but not in mine. "

"All's right, my lad, " said the admiral; "now for it. "

He saw lying in the moonlight the pistols which he and the doctor hadbrought into the room, and in another moment he, to use his own words, returned the broadside of the enemy. 

"D--n it!" he said, "this puts me in mind of old times. Blaze away, youthieves, while I load; broadside to broadside. It's your turn now; Iscorn to take an advantage. What the devil's that?"

Something very large and very heavy came bang against the window, sending it all into the room, and nearly smothering the admiral with thefragments. Another shot was then fired, and in came something else, which hit the wall on the opposite side of the room, rebounding fromthence on to the doctor, who gave a yell of despair. 

After that all was still; the enemy seemed to be satisfied that they hadsilenced the garrison. And it took the admiral a great deal of kickingand plunging to rescue himself from some superincumbent mass that wasupon him, which seemed to him to be a considerable sized tree. 

"Call this fair fighting, " he shouted--"getting a man's legs and armstangled up like a piece of Indian matting in the branches of a tree?Doctor, I say! hilloa! where are you?"

"I don't know, " said the doctor; "but there's somebody getting into thebalcony--now we shall be murdered in cold blood!"

"Where's the pistols?"

"Fired off, of course; you did it yourself. "

Bang came something else into the room, which, from the sound it made, closely resembled a brick, and after that somebody jumped clean into thecentre of the floor, and then, after rolling and writhing about in amost singular manner, slowly got up, and with various preliminaryhiccups, said, --

"Come on, you lubbers, many of you as like. I'm the tar for allweathers. "

"Why, d----e, " said the admiral, "it's Jack Pringle. "

"Yes, it is, " said Jack, who was not sufficiently sober to recognise theadmiral's voice. "I sees as how you've heard of me. Come on, all ofyou. "

"Why, Jack, you scoundrel, " roared the admiral, "how came you here?Don't you know me? I'm your admiral, you horse-marine. "

"Eh?" said Jack. "Ay--ay, sir, how came you here?"

"How came you, you villain?"

"Boarded the enemy. "

"The enemy who you boarded was us; and hang me if I don't think youhaven't been pouring broadsides into us, while the enemy were scuddingbefore the wind in another direction. "

"Lor!" said Jack. 

"Explain, you scoundrel, directly--explain. "

"Well, that's only reasonable, " said Jack; and giving a heavier lurchthan usual, he sat down with a great bounce upon the floor. "You seeit's just this here, --when I was a coming of course I heard, just as Iwas a going, that ere as made me come all in consequence of somebody agoing, or for to come, you see, admiral. "

"Doctor, " cried the admiral, in a great rage, "just help me out of thisentanglement of branches, and I'll rid the world from an encumbrance bysmashing that fellow. "

"Smash yourself!" said Jack. "You know you're drunk. "

"My dear admiral, " said Mr. Chillingworth, laying hold of one of hislegs, and pulling it very hard, which brought his face into a lot ofbrambles, "we're making a mess of this business. "

"Murder!" shouted the admiral; "you are indeed. Is that what you callpulling me out of it? You've stuck me fast. "

"I'll manage it, " said Jack. "I've seed him in many a scrape, and I'veseed him out. You pull me, doctor, and I'll pull him. Yo hoy!"

Jack laid hold of the admiral by the scuff of the neck, and the doctorlaid hold of Jack round the waist, the consequence of which was that hewas dragged out from the branches of the tree, which seemed to have beenthrown into the room, and down fell both Jack and the doctor. 

At this instant there was a strange hissing sound heard below thewindow; then there was a sudden, loud report, as if a hand-grenade hadgone off. A spectral sort of light gleamed into the room, and a tall, gaunt-looking figure rose slowly up in the balcony. 

"Beware of the dead!" said a voice. "Let the living contend with theliving, the dead with the dead. Beware!"

The figure disappeared, as did also the strange, spectral-looking light. A death-like silence ensued, and the cold moonbeams streamed in upon thefloor of the apartment, as if nothing had occurred to disturb thewrapped repose and serenity of the scene. 

CHAPTER LIX. 

THE WARNING. --THE NEW PLAN OF OPERATION. --THE INSULTING MESSAGE FROMVARNEY. 

[Illustration]

So much of the night had been consumed in these operations, that by thetime they were over, and the three personages who lay upon the floor ofwhat might be called the haunted chamber of Bannerworth Hall, even hadthey now been disposed to seek repose, would have had a short time to doso before the daylight would have streamed in upon them, and roused themto the bustle of waking existence. 

It may be well believed what a vast amount of surprise came over thethree persons in that chamber at the last little circumstance that hadoccurred in connection with the night's proceedings. 

There was nothing which had preceded that, that did not resemble agenuine attack upon the premises; but about that last mysteriousappearance, with its curious light, there was quite enough to bother theadmiral and Jack Pringle to a considerable effect, whatever might be theeffect upon Mr. Chillingworth, whose profession better enabled him tocomprehend, chemically, what would produce effects that, no doubt, astonished them amazingly. 

What with his intoxication and the violent exercise he had taken, Jackwas again thoroughly prostrate; while the admiral could not have lookedmore astonished had the evil one himself appeared in _propria persona_and given him notice to quit the premises. 

He was, however, the first to speak, and the words he spoke wereaddressed to Jack, to whom he said, --

"Jack, you lubber, what do you think of all that?"

Jack, however, was too far gone even to say "Ay, ay, sir;" and Mr. Chillingworth, slowly getting himself up to his feet, approached theadmiral. 

"It's hard to say so much, Admiral Bell, " he said, "but it strikes methat whatever object this Sir Francis Varney, or Varney, the vampyre, has in coming into Bannerworth Hall, it is, at all events, of sufficientimportance to induce him to go any length, and not to let even a life tostand in the way of its accomplishment. "

"Well, it seems so, " said the admiral; "for I'll be hanged if I can makehead or tail of the fellow. "

"If we value our personal safety, we shall hesitate to continue aperilous adventure which I think can end only in defeat, if not indeath. "

"But we don't value our personal safety, " said the admiral. "We've gotinto the adventure, and I don't see why we shouldn't carry it out. Itmay be growing a little serious; but what of that? For the sake of thatyoung girl, Flora Bannerworth, as well as for the sake of my nephew, Charles Holland, I will see the end of this affair, let it be what itmay; but mind you, Mr. Chillingworth, if one man chooses to go upon adesperate service, that's no reason why he should ask another to do so. "

"I understand you, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "but, having commenced theadventure with you, I am not the man to desert you in it. We havecommitted a great mistake. "

"A mistake! how?"

"Why, we ought to have watched outside the house, instead of within it. There can be no doubt that if we had lain in wait in the garden, weshould have been in a better position to have accomplished our object. "

"Well, I don't know, doctor, but it seems to me that if Jack Pringlehadn't made such a fool of himself, we should have managed very well:and I don't know now how he came to behave in the manner he did. "

"Nor I, " said Mr. Chillingworth. "But, at all events, so far as theresult goes, it is quite clear that any further watching, in this house, for the appearance of Sir Francis Varney, will now be in vain. He hasnothing to do now but to keep quiet until we are tired out--a fact, concerning which he can easily obtain information--and then heimmediately, without trouble, walks into the premises, to his ownsatisfaction. "

"But what the deuce can he want upon the premises?"

"That question, admiral, induces me to think that we have made anothermistake. We ought not to have attempted to surprise Sir Francis Varneyin coming into Bannerworth Hall, but to catch him as he came out. "

[Illustration]

"Well, there's something in that, " said the admiral. "This is a prettynight's business, to be sure. However, it can't be helped, it's done, and there's an end on't. And now, as the morning is near at hand, Icertainly must confess I should like to get some breakfast, although Idon't like that we should all leave the house together"

"Why, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "as we have now no secret to keep withregard to our being here, because the principal person we wished to keepit from is aware of it, I think we cannot do better than send at oncefor Henry Bannerworth, tell him of the non-success of the effort we havemade in his behalf, and admit him at once into our consultation of whatis next to be done. "

"Agreed, agreed, I think that, without troubling him, we might havecaptured this Varney; but that's over now, and, as soon as Jack Pringlechooses to wake up again, I'll send him to the Bannerworths with amessage. "

"Ay, ay, sir, " said Jack, suddenly; "all's right. "

"Why, you vagabond, " said the admiral, "I do believe you've beenshamming!"

"Shamming what?"

"Being drunk, to be sure. "

"Lor! couldn't do it, " said Jack; "I'll just tell you how it was. Iwakened up and found myself shut in somewhere; and, as I couldn't getout of the door, I thought I'd try the window, and there I did get out. Well, perhaps I wasn't quite the thing, but I sees two people in thegarden a looking up at this ere room; and, to be sure, I thought it wasyou and the doctor. Well, it warn't no business of mine to interfere, soI seed one of you climb up the balcony, as I thought, and then, afterwhich, come down head over heels with such a run, that I thought youmust have broken your neck. Well, after that you fired a couple of shotsin, and then, after that, I made sure it was you, admiral. "

"And what made you make sure of that?"

"Why, because you scuttled away like an empty tar-barrel in full tide. "

"Confound you, you scoundrel!"

"Well, then, confound you, if it comes to that. I thought I was doingyou good sarvice, and that the enemy was here, when all the while itturned out as you was and the enemy wasn't, and the enemy was outsideand you wasn't. "

"But who threw such a confounded lot of things into the room?"

"Why, I did, of course; I had but one pistol, and, when I fired thatoff, I was forced to make up a broadside with what I could. "

"Was there ever such a stupid!" said the admiral; "doctor, doctor, youtalked of us making two mistakes; but you forgot a third and worse onestill, and that was the bringing such a lubberly son of a sea-cook intothe place as this fellow. "

"You're another, " said Jack; "and you knows it. "

"Well, well, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "it's no use continuing it, admiral; Jack, in his way, did, I dare say, what he considered for thebest. "

"I wish he'd do, then, what he considers for the worst, next time. "

"Perhaps I may, " said Jack, "and then you will be served out above abit. What 'ud become of you, I wonder, if it wasn't for me? I'm as goodas a mother to you, you knows that, you old babby. "

"Come, come, admiral, " said Mr. Chillingworth: "come down to thegarden-gate; it is now just upon daybreak, and the probability is thatwe shall not be long there before we see some of the country people, whowill get us anything we require in the shape of refreshment; and as forJack, he seems quite sufficiently recovered now to go to theBannerworths'. "

"Oh! I can go, " said Jack; "as for that, the only thing as puts me outof the way is the want of something to drink. My constitution won'tstand what they call temperance living, or nothing with the chill off. "

"Go at once, " said the admiral, "and tel! Mr. Henry Bannerworth that weare here; but do not tell him before his sister or his mother. If youmeet anybody on the road, send them here with a cargo of victuals. Itstrikes me that a good, comfortable breakfast wouldn't be at all amiss, doctor. "

"How rapidly the day dawns, " remarked Mr. Chillingworth, as he walkedinto the balcony from whence Varney, the vampire, had attempted to makegood his entrance to the Hall. 

Just as he spoke, and before Jack Pringle could get half way over to thegarden gate, there came a tremendous ring at the bell which wassuspended over it. 

A view of that gate could not be commanded from the window of thehaunted apartment, so that they could not see who it was that demandedadmission. 

As Jack Pringle was going down at any rate, they saw no necessity forpersonal interference; and he proved that there was not, by presentlyreturning with a note which he said had been thrown over the gate by alad, who then scampered off with all the speed he could make. 

The note, exteriorly, was well got up, and had all the appearance ofgreat care having been bestowed upon its folding and sealing. 

It was duly addressed to "Admiral Bell, Bannerworth Hall, " and the word"immediate" was written at one corner. 

The admiral, after looking at it for some time with very great wonder, came at last to the conclusion that probably to open it would be theshortest way of arriving at a knowledge of who had sent it, and heaccordingly did so. 

The note was as follows:--

 "My dear sir, --Feeling assured that you cannot be surrounded with those means and appliances for comfort in the Hall, in its now deserted condition, which you have a right to expect, and so eminently deserve, I flatter myself that I shall receive an answer in the affirmative, when I request the favour of your company to breakfast, as well as that of your learned friend. Mr. Chillingworth. 

 "In consequence of a little accident which occurred last evening to my own residence, I am, _ad interim_, until the county build it up for me again, staying at a house called Walmesley Lodge, where I shall expect you with all the impatience of one soliciting an honour, and hoping that it will be conferred upon him. 

 "I trust that any little difference of opinion on other subjects will not interfere to prevent the harmony of our morning's meal together. 

 "Believe me to be, my dear sir, with the greatest possible consideration, your very obedient, humble servant, "FRANCIS VARNEY. "

The admiral gasped again, and looked at Mr. Chillingworth, and then atthe note, and then at Mr. Chillingworth again, as if he was perfectlybewildered. 

"That's about the coolest piece of business, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "that ever I heard of. "

"Hang me, " said the admiral, "if I sha'n't like the fellow at last. Itis cool, and I like it because it is cool. Where's my hat? where's mystick!"

"What are you going to do?"

"Accept his invitation, to be sure, and breakfast with him; and, mylearned friend, as he calls you, I hope you'll come likewise. I'll takethe fellow at his word. By fair means, or by foul, I'll know what hewants here; and why he persecutes this family, for whom I have anattachment; and what hand he has in the disappearance of my nephew, Charles Holland; for, as sure as there's a Heaven above us, he's at thebottom of that affair. Where is this Walmesley Lodge?"

"Just in the neighbourhood; but--"

"Come on, then; come on. "

"But, really, admiral, you don't mean to say you'll breakfastwith--with--"

"A vampyre? Yes, I would, and will, and mean to do so. Here, Jack, youneedn't go to Mr. Bannerworth's yet. Come, my learned friend, let's takeTime by the forelock. "

CHAPTER LX. 

THE INTERRUPTED BREAKFAST AT SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S. 

[Illustration]

Notwithstanding all Mr. Chillingworth could say to the contrary, theadmiral really meant to breakfast with Sir Francis Varney. 

The worthy doctor could not for some time believe but that the admiralmust be joking, when he talked in such a strain; but he was very soonconvinced to the contrary, by the latter actually walking out and oncemore asking him, Mr. Chillingworth, if he meant to go with him, or not. 

This was conclusive, so the doctor said, --

"Well, admiral, this appears to me rather a mad sort of freak; but, as Ihave begun the adventure with you, I will conclude it with you. "

"That's right, " said the admiral; "I'm not deceived in you, doctor; socome along. Hang these vampyres, I don't know how to tackle them, myself. I think, after all, Sir Francis Varney is more in your line thanline is in mine. "

"How do you mean?"

"Why, couldn't you persuade him he's ill, and wants some physic? Thatwould soon settle him, you know. "

"Settle him!" said Mr. Chillingworth; "I beg to say that if I did givehim any physic, the dose would be much to his advantage; but, however, my opinion is, that this invitation to breakfast is, after all, a merepiece of irony; and that, when we get to Walmesley Lodge, we shall notsee anything of him; on the contrary, we shall probably find it's ahoax. "

"I certainly shouldn't like that, but still it's worth the trying. Thefellow has really behaved himself in such an extraordinary manner, that, if I can make terms with him I will; and there's one thing, you know, doctor, that I think we may say we have discovered. "

"And what may that be? Is it, not to make too sure of a vampyre, evenwhen you have him by the leg?"

"No, that ain't it, though that's a very good thing in its way: but itis just this, that Sir Francis Varney, whoever he is and whatever he is, is after Bannerworth Hall, and not the Bannerworth family. If yourecollect, Mr. Chillingworth, in our conversation, I have alwaysinsisted upon that fact. "

"You have; and it seems to me to be completely verified by theproceedings of the night. There, then, admiral, is the greatmystery--what can he want at Bannerworth Hall that makes him take such aworld of trouble, and run so many fearful risks in trying to get at it?"

"That is, indeed, the mystery; and if he really means this invitation tobreakfast, I shall ask him plumply, and tell him, at the same time, thatpossibly his very best way to secure his object will be to be candid, vampyre as he is. "

"But really, admiral, you do not still cling to that foolishsuperstition of believing that Sir Francis Varney is in reality avampyre?"

"I don't know, and I can't say; if anybody was to give me a descriptionof a strange sort of fish that I had never seen, I wouldn't take uponmyself to say there wasn't such a thing; nor would you, doctor, if youhad really seen the many odd ones that I have encountered at varioustimes. "

"Well, well, admiral, I'm certainly not belonging to that school ofphilosophy which declares the impossible to be what it don't understand;there may be vampyres, and there may be apparitions, for all I know tothe contrary; I only doubt these things, because I think, if they weretrue, that, as a phenomena of nature, they would have been by this timeestablished by repeated instances without the possibility of doubt orcavil. "

"Well, there's something in that; but how far have we got to go now?"

"No further than to yon enclosure where you see those park-like lookinggates, and that cedar-tree stretching its dark-green foliage so far intothe road; that is Walmesley Lodge, whither you have been invited. "

"And you, my learned friend, recollect that you were invited too; sothat you are no intruder upon the hospitality of Varney the vampyre. "

"I say, admiral, " said Mr. Chillingworth, when they reached the gates, "you know it is not quite the thing to call a man a vampyre at his ownbreakfast-table, so just oblige me by promising not to make any suchremark to Sir Francis. "

"A likely thing!" said the admiral; "he knows I know what he is, and heknows I'm a plain man and a blunt speaker; however, I'll be civil tohim, and more than that I can't promise. I must wring out of him, if Ican, what has become of Charles Holland, and what the deuce he reallywants himself. "

"Well, well; come to no collision with him, while we're his guests. "

"Not if I can help it. "

The doctor rang at the gate bell of Walmesley Lodge, and was in a fewmoments answered by a woman, who demanded their business. 

"Is Sir Francis Varney here?" said the doctor. 

"Oh, ah! yes, " she replied; "you see his house was burnt down, forsomething or other--I'm sure I don't know what--by some people--I'm sureI don't know who; so, as the lodge was to let, we have took him in tillhe can suit himself. "

"Ah! that's it, is it?" said the admiral--"tell him that Admiral Belland Dr. Chillingworth are here. "

"Very well, " said the woman; "you may walk in. "

"Thank ye; you're vastly obliging, ma'am. Is there anything going on inthe breakfast line?"

"Well, yes; I am getting him some breakfast, but he didn't say as heexpected company. "

The woman opened the garden gate, and they walked up a trimly laid outgarden to the lodge, which was a cottage-like structure in externalappearance, although within it boasted of all the comforts of atolerably extensive house. 

She left them in a small room, leading from the hall, and was absentabout five minutes; then she returned, and, merely saying that SirFrancis Varney presented his compliments, and desired them to walk upstairs, she preceded them up a handsome flight which led to the firstfloor of the lodge. 

Up to this moment, Mr. Chillingworth had expected some excuse, for, notwithstanding all he had heard and seen of Sir Francis Varney, hecould not believe that any amount of impudence would suffice to enablehim to receive people as his guests, with whom he must feel that he wasat such positive war. 

It was a singular circumstance; and, perhaps, the only thing thatmatched the cool impertinence of the invitation, was the acceptance ofit under the circumstances by the admiral. 

Sir Francis Varney might have intended it as a jest; but if he did so, in the first instance, it was evident he would not allow himself to bebeaten with his own weapons. 

The room into which they were shown was a longish narrow one; a verywide door gave them admission to it, at the end, nearest the staircase, and at its other extremity there was a similar door opening into someother apartments of the house. 

Sir Francis Varney sat with his back towards this second door, and atable, with some chairs and other articles of furniture, were soarranged before him, that while they seemed but to be carelessly placedin the position they occupied, they really formed a pretty good barrierbetween him and his visitors. 

The admiral, however, was too intent upon getting a sight of Varney, tonotice any preparation of this sort, and he advanced quickly into theroom. 

And there, indeed, was the much dreaded, troublesome, persevering, andsingular looking being who had caused such a world of annoyance to thefamily of the Bannerworths, as well as disturbing the peace of the wholedistrict, which had the misfortune to have him as an inhabitant. 

If anything, he looked thinner, taller, and paler than usual, and thereseemed to be a slight nervousness of manner about him, as he slowlyinclined his head towards the admiral, which was not quite intelligible. 

"Well, " said Admiral Bell, "you invited me to breakfast, and my learnedfriend; here we are. "

"No two human beings, " said Varney, "could be more welcome to myhospitality than yourself and Dr. Chillingworth. I pray you to beseated. What a pleasant thing it is, after the toils and struggles ofthis life, occasionally to sit down in the sweet companionship of suchdear friends. "

He made a hideous face as he spoke, and the admiral looked as if he werehalf inclined to quarrel at that early stage of the proceedings. 

"Dear friends!" he said; "well, well--it's no use squabbling about aword or two; but I tell you what it is, Mr. Varney, or Sir FrancisVarney, or whatever your d----d name is--"

"Hold, my dear sir, " said Varney--"after breakfast, if you please--afterbreakfast. "

He rang a hand-bell as he spoke, and the woman who had charge of thehouse brought in a tray tolerably covered with the materials for asubstantial morning's meal. She placed it upon the table, and certainlythe various articles that smoked upon it did great credit to herculinary powers. 

"Deborah, " said Sir Varney, in a mild sort of tone, "keep on continuallybringing things to eat until this old brutal sea ruffian has satiatedhis disgusting appetite. "

The admiral opened his eyes an enormous width, and, looking at SirFrancis Varney, he placed his two fists upon the table, and drew a longbreath. 

"Did you address those observations to me, " he said, at length, "youblood-sucking vagabond?"

"Eh?" said Sir Francis Varney, looking over the admiral's head, as if hesaw something interesting on the wall beyond. 

"My dear admiral, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "come away. "

"I'll see you d----d first!" said the admiral. "Now, Mr. Vampyre, noshuffling; did you address those observations to me?"

"Deborah, " said Sir Francis Varney, in silvery tones, "you can removethis tray and bring on the next. "

"Not if I know it, " said the admiral "I came to breakfast, and I'll haveit; after breakfast I'll pull your nose--ay, if you were fifty vampyres, I'd do it. "

"Dr. Chillingworth, " said Varney, without paying the least attention towhat the admiral said, "you don't eat, my dear sir; you must be fatiguedwith your night's exertions. A man of your age, you know, cannot besupposed to roll and tumble about like a fool in a pantomime withimpunity. Only think what a calamity it would be if you were laid up. Your patients would all get well, you know. "

"Sir Francis Varney, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "we're your guests; wecome here at your invitation to partake of a meal. You have wantonlyattacked both of us. I need not say that by so doing you cast a fargreater slur upon your own taste and judgment than you can upon us. "

"Admirably spoken, " said Sir Francis Varney, giving his bands a claptogether that made the admiral jump again. "Now, old Bell, I'll fightyou, if you think yourself aggrieved, while the doctor sees fair play. "

"Old who?" shouted the admiral. 

"Bell, Bell--is not your name Bell?--a family cognomen, I presume, onaccount of the infernal clack, clack, without any sense in it, that isthe characteristic of your race. "

"You'll fight me?" said the admiral, jumping up. 

"Yes; if you challenge me. "

"By Jove I do; of course"

"Then I accept it; and the challenged party, you know well, or ought toknow, can make his own terms in the encounter. "

"Make what terms you please; I care not what they are. Only say you willfight, and that's sufficient. "

"It is well, " said Sir Francis Varney, in a solemn tone. 

"Nay, nay, " interrupted Mr. Chillingworth; "this is boyish folly. "

"Hold your row, " said the admiral, "and let's hear what he's got tosay. "

"In this mansion, " said Sir Francis Varney--"for a mansion it is, although under the unpretending name of a lodge--in this mansion thereis a large apartment which was originally fitted up by a scientificproprietor of the place, for the purpose of microscopic and otherexperiments, which required a darkness total and complete, such adarkness as seems as if it could be felt--palpable, thick, and obscureas the darkness of the tomb, and I know what that is. "

"The devil you do!" said this admiral "It's damp, too, ain't it?"

"The room?"

"No; the grave. "

"Oh! uncommonly, after autumnal rains. But to resume--this room islarge, lofty, and perfectly empty. "

"Well?"

"I propose that we procure two scythes. "

"Two what?"

"Scythes, with their long handles, and their convenient holding places. "

"Well, I'll be hanged! What next do you propose?"

"You may be hanged. The next is, that with these scythes we be both ofus placed in the darkened room, and the door closed, and doubly lockedupon us for one hour, and that then and there we do our best each to cutthe other in two. If you succeed in dismembering me, you will have wonthe day; but I hope, from my superior agility"--here Sir Francis jumpedupon his chair, and sat upon the back of it--"to get the better or you. How do you like the plan I have proposed? Does it meet your wishes?"

"Curse your impudence!" said the admiral, placing his elbows upon thetable and resting his chin in astonishment upon his two hands. 

"Nay, " interrupted Sir Francis, "you challenged me; and, besides, you'llhave an equal chance, you know that. If you succeed in striking mefirst, down I go; whereas it I succeed in striking you first, down yougo. "

As he spoke, Sir Francis Varney stretched out his foot, and closed asmall bracket which held out the flap of the table on which the admiralwas leaning, and, accordingly, down the admiral went, tea-tray and all. 

Mr. Chillingworth ran to help him up, and, when they both recoveredtheir feet, they found they were alone. 

CHAPTER LXI. 

THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER. --THE PARTICULARS OF THE SUICIDE AT BANNERWORTHHALL. 

[Illustration]

"Hilloa where the deuce is he?" said the admiral. "Was there ever such aconfounded take-in?"

"Well, I really don't know, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "but it seems to methat he must have gone out of that door that was behind him: I begin, doyou know, admiral, to wish--"

"What?"

"That we had never come here at all; and I think the sooner we get outof it the better. "

"Yes; but I am not going to be hoaxed and humbugged in this way. I willhave satisfaction, but not with those confounded scythes and things hetalks about in the dark room. Give me broad daylight and no favour;yardarm and yardarm; broadside and broadside; hand-grenades andmarling-spikes. "

"Well, but that's what he won't do. Now, admiral, listen to me. "

"Well, go on; what next?"

"Come away at once. "

"Oh, you said that before. "

"Yes; but I'm going to say something else. Look round you. Don't youthink this a large, scientific-looking room?"

"What of that?"

"Why, what if suppose it was to become as dark as the grave, and Varneywas to enter with his scythe, that he talks of, and begin mowing aboutour legs. "

"The devil! Come along!"

The door at which they entered was at this moment opened, and the oldwoman made her appearance. 

"Please, sir, " she said, "here's a Mr. Mortimer, " in a loud voice. "Oh, Sir Francis ain't here! Where's he gone, gentlemen?"

"To the devil!" said the admiral. "Who may Mr. Mortimer be?"

There walked past the woman a stout, portly-looking man, well dressed, but with a very odd look upon his face, in consequence of an obliquityof vision, which prevented the possibility of knowing which way he waslooking. 

"I must see him, " he said; "I must see him. "

Mr. Chillingworth started back as if in amazement. 

"Good God!" he cried, "you here!

"Confusion!" said Mortimer; "are you Dr. ---- Dr. ----"

"Chillingworth. "

"The same. Hush! there is no occasion to betray--that is, to state mysecret. "

"And mine, too, " said Chillingworth. "But what brings you here?"

"I cannot and dare not tell you. Farewell!"

He turned abruptly, and was leaving the room; but he ran against someone at the entrance, and in another moment Henry Bannerworth, heated andalmost breathless by evident haste, made his appearance. 

"Hilloa! bravo!" cried the admiral; "the more the merrier! Here's acombined squadron! Why, how came you here, Mr. Henry Bannerworth?"

"Bannerworth!" said Mortimer; "is that young man's name Bannerworth?"

"Yes, " said Henry. "Do you know me, sir?"

"No, no; only I--I--must be off. Does anybody know anything of SirFrancis Varney?"

"We did know something of him, " said the admiral, "a little while ago;but he's taken himself off. Don't you do so likewise. If you've gotanything to say, stop and say it, like an Englishman. "

"Stuff! stuff!" said Mortimer, impatiently. "What do you all want here?"

"Why, Sir Francis Varney, " said Henry, --"and I care not if the wholeworld heard it--is the persecutor of my family. "

"How? in what way?"

"He has the reputation of a vampyre; he has hunted me and mine fromhouse and home. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, " cried Dr. Chillingworth; "and, by some means or another, he seemsdetermined to get possession of Bannerworth Hall. "

"Well, gentlemen, " said Mortimer, "I promise you that I will inquireinto this. Mr. Chillingworth, I did not expect to meet you. Perhaps theleast we say to each other is, after all, the better. "

"Let me ask but one question, " said Dr. Chillingworth, imploringly. 

"Ask it. "

"Did he live after--"

"Hush! he did. "

"You always told me to the contrary. "

"Yes; I had an object; the game is up. Farewell; and, gentlemen, as I ammaking my exit, let me do so with a sentiment:--Society at large isdivided into two great classes. "

"And what may they be?" said the admiral. 

"Those who have been hanged, and those who have not. Adieu!"

He turned and left the room; and Mr. Chillingworth sunk into a chair, and said, in a low voice, --

"It's uncommonly true; and I've found out an acquaintance among theformer. "

"-D--n it! you seem all mad, " said the admiral. "I can't make out whatyou are about. How came you here, Mr. Henry Bannerworth?"

"By mere accident I heard, " said Henry, "that you were keeping watch andward in the Hall. Admiral, it was cruel, and not well done of you, toattempt such an enterprise without acquainting me with it. Did yousuppose for a moment that I, who had the greatest interest in thisaffair, would have shrunk from danger, if danger there be; or lackedperseverance, if that quality were necessary in carrying out any plan bywhich the safety and honour of my family might be preserved?"

"Nay, now, my young friend, " said Mr. Chillingworth. 

"Nay, sir; but I take it ill that I should have been kept out of thisaffair; and it should have been sedulously, as it were, kept a secretfrom me. "

"Let him go on as he likes, " said the admiral; "boys will be boys. Afterall, you know, doctor, it's my affair, and not yours. Let him say whathe likes; where's the odds? It's of no consequence. "

"I do not expect. Admiral Bell, " said Henry, "that it is to you; but itis to me. "

"Psha!"

"Respecting you, sir, as I do--"

"Gammon!"

"I must confess that I did expect--"

"What you didn't get; therefore, there's an end of that. Now, I tell youwhat, Henry, Sir Francis Varney is within this house; at least, I havereason to suppose so. "

"Then, " exclaimed Henry, impetuously, "I will wring from him answers tovarious questions which concern my peace and happiness. "

"Please, gentlemen, " said the woman Deborah, making her appearance, "SirFrancis Varney has gone out, and he says I'm to show you all the door, as soon as it is convenient for you all to walk out of it. "

"I feel convinced, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "that it will be a uselesssearch now to attempt to find Sir Francis Varney here. Let me beg of youall to come away; and believe me that I do not speak lightly, or with aview to get you from here, when I say, that after I have heard somethingfrom you, Henry, which I shall ask you to relate to me, painful thoughit may be, I shall be able to suggest some explanation of many thingswhich appear at present obscure, and to put you in a course of freeingyou from the difficulties which surround you, which, Heaven knows, Ilittle expected I should have it in my power to propose to any of you. "

"I will follow your advice, Mr. Chillingworth, " said Henry; "for I havealways found that it has been dictated by good feeling as well ascorrect judgment. Admiral Bell, you will oblige me much by coming awaywith me now and at once. "

"Well, " remarked the admiral, "if the doctor has really something tosay, it alters the appearance of things, and, of course, I have noobjection. "

Upon this, the whole three of them immediately left the place, and itwas evident that Mr. Chillingworth had something of an uncomfortablecharacter upon his mind. He was unusually silent and reserved, and, whenhe did speak, he seemed rather inclined to turn the conversation uponindifferent topics, than to add anything more to what he had said uponthe deeply interesting one which held so foremost a place in all theirminds. 

"How is Flora, now, " he asked of Henry, "since her removal?"

"Anxious still, " said Henry; "but, I think, better. "

"That is well. I perceive that, naturally, we are all three walkingtowards Bannerworth Hall, and, perhaps, it is as well that on that spotI should ask of you, Henry, to indulge me with a confidence such as, under ordinary circumstances, I should not at all feel myself justifiedin requiring of you. "

"To what does it relate?" said Henry. "You may be assured, Mr. Chillingworth, that I am not likely to refuse my confidence to you, whomI have so much reason to respect as an attached friend of myself and myfamily. "

"You will not object, likewise, I hope, " added Mr. Chillingworth, "toextend that confidence to Admiral Bell; for, as you well know, a truerand more warm-hearted man than he does not exist. "

"What do you expect for that, doctor?" said the admiral. 

"There is nothing, " said Henry, "that I could relate at all, that Ishould shrink from relating to Admiral Bell. "

"Well, my boy, " said the admiral, "and all I can reply to that is, youare quite right; for there can be nothing that you need shrink fromtelling me, so far as regards the fact of trusting me with it goes. "

"I am assured of that. "

"A British officer, once pledging his word, prefers death to breakingit. Whatever you wish kept secret in the communication you make to me, say so, and it will never pass my lips. "

"Why, sir, the fact is, " said Henry, "that what I am about to relate toyou consists not so much of secrets as of matters which would be painfulto my feelings to talk of more than may be absolutely required. "

"I understand you. "

"Let me, for a moment, " said Mr Chillingworth, "put myself right. I donot suspect, Mr. Henry Bannerworth, that you fancy I ask you to make arecital of circumstances which must be painful to you from any idlemotive. But let me declare that I have now a stronger impulse, whichinduces me to wish to hear from your own lips those matters whichpopular rumour may have greatly exaggerated or vitiated. "

"It is scarcely possible, " remarked Henry, sadly, "that popular rumourshould exaggerate the facts. "

"Indeed!"

"No. They are, unhappily, of themselves, in their bare truthfulness, sofull of all that can be grievous to those who are in any way connectedwith them, that there needs no exaggeration to invest them with moreterror, or with more of that sadness which must ever belong to arecollection of them in my mind. "

In suchlike discourse as this, the time was passed, until HenryBannerworth and his friends once more reached the Hall, from which he, with his family, had so recently removed, in consequence of the fearfulpersecution to which they had been subjected. 

They passed again into the garden which they all knew so well, and thenHenry paused and looked around him with a deep sigh. 

In answer to an inquiring glance from Mr. Chillingworth, he said, --

"Is it not strange, now, that I should have only been away from here aspace of time which may be counted by hours, and yet all seems changed. I could almost fancy that years had elapsed since I had looked at it. "

"Oh, " remarked the doctor, "time is always by the imagination measuredby the number of events which are crowded into a given space of it, andnot by its actual duration. Come into the house; there you will find alljust as you left it, Henry, and you can tell us your story at leisure. "

"The air, " said Henry, "about here is fresh and pleasant. Let us sitdown in the summer-house yonder, and there I will tell you all. It has alocal interest, too, connected with the tale. "

This was agreed to, and, in a few moments, the admiral, Mr. Chillingworth, and Henry were seated in the same summer-house which hadwitnessed the strange interview between Sir Francis Varney and FloraBannerworth, in which he had induced her to believe that he felt for thedistress he had occasioned her, and was strongly impressed with theinjustice of her sufferings. 

Henry was silent for some few moments, and then he said, with a deepsigh, as he looked mournfully around him, --

[Illustration]

"It was on this spot that my father breathed his last, and hence have Isaid that it has a local interest in the tale I have to tell, whichmakes it the most fitting place in which to tell it. "

"Oh, " said the admiral, "he died here, did he?"

"Yes, where you are now sitting. "

"Very good, I have seen many a brave man die in my time, and I hope tosee a few more, although, I grant you, the death in the heat ofconflict, and fighting for our country, is a vastly different thing tosome shore-going mode of leaving the world. "

"Yes, " said Henry, as if pursuing his own meditations, rather thanlistening to the admiral. "Yes, it was from this precise spot that myfather took his last look at the ancient house of his race. What we cannow see of it, he saw of it with his dying eyes and many a time I havesat here and fancied the world of terrible thoughts that must at such amoment have come across his brain. "

"You might well do so, " said the doctor. 

"You see, " added Henry, "that from here the fullest view you have of anyof the windows of the house is of that of Flora's room, as we havealways called it, because for years she had had it as her chamber; and, when all the vegetation of summer is in its prime, and the vine whichyou perceive crawls over this summer-house is full of leaf and fruit, the view is so much hindered that it is difficult, without making anartificial gap in the clustering foliage, to see anything but thewindow. "

"So I should imagine, " replied Mr. Chillingworth. 

"You, doctor, " added Henry, "who know much of my family, need not betold what sort of man my father was. "

"No, indeed. "

"But you, Admiral Bell, who do not know, must be told, and, howevergrievous it may be to me to have to say so, I must inform you that hewas not a man who would have merited your esteem. "

"Well, " said the admiral, "you know, my boy, that can make no differenceas regards you in anybody's mind, who has got the brains of an owl. Every man's credit, character, and honour, to my thinking, is in his ownmost special keeping, and let your father be what he might, or who hemight, I do not see that any conduct of his ought to raise upon yourcheek the flush of shame, or cost you more uneasiness than ordinary goodfeeling dictates to the errors and feelings of a fellow creature. "

"If all the world, " said Henry, "would take such liberal andcomprehensive views as you do, admiral, it would be much happier than itis; but such is not the case, and people are but too apt to blame oneperson for the evil that another has done. "

"Ah, but, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "it so happens that those are thepeople whose opinions are of the very least consequence. "

"There is some truth in that, " said Henry, sadly; "but, however, let meproceed; since I have to tell the tale, I could wish it over. My father, then, Admiral Bell, although a man not tainted in early life with vices, became, by the force of bad associates, and a sort of want ofcongeniality and sentiment that sprang up between him and my mother, plunged into all the excesses of his age. "

"These excesses were all of that character which the most readily layhold strongly of an unreflecting mind, because they all presentedthemselves in the garb of sociality. 

"The wine cup is drained in the name of good fellowship; money which iswanted for legitimate purposes is squandered under the mask of a nobleand free generosity, and all that the small imaginations of a number ofpersons of perverted intellects could enable them to do, has been donefrom time to time, to impart a kind of lustre to intemperance and allits dreadful and criminal consequences. 

"My father, having once got into the company of what he considered witsand men of spirit, soon became thoroughly vitiated. He was almost theonly one of the set among whom he passed what he considered his highlyconvivial existence, who was really worth anything, pecuniarilyspeaking. There were some among them who might have been respectablemen, and perchance carved their way to fortune, as well as some otherswho had started in life with good patrimonies; but he, my father, at thetime he became associated with them, was the only one, as I say, who, touse a phrase I have heard myself from his lips concerning them, had gota feather to fly with. 

"The consequence of this was, that his society, merely for the sake ofthe animal gratification of drinking at his expense was courted, and hewas much flattered, all of which he laid to the score of his own merits, which had been found out, and duly appreciated by these _bon vivants_, while he considered that the grave admonitions of his real friendsproceeded from nothing in the world but downright envy and malice. 

"Such a state of things as this could not last very long. The associatesof my father wanted money as well as wine, so they introduced him to thegaming-table, and he became fascinated with the fearful vice to anextent which predicted his own destruction and the ruin of every one whowas in any way dependent upon him. 

"He could not absolutely sell Bannerworth Hall, unless I had given myconsent, which I refused; but he accumulated debt upon debt, and fromtime to time stripped the mansion of all its most costly contents. 

"With various mutations of fortune, he continued this horrible andbaneful career for a long time, until, at last, he found himself utterlyand irretrievably ruined, and he came home in an agony of despair, beingso weak, and utterly ruined in constitution, that he kept his bed formany days. 

"It appeared, however, that something occurred at this juncture whichgave him actually, or all events awakened a hope that he should possesssome money, and be again in a position to try his fortune at thegaming-table. 

"He rose, and, fortifying himself once more with the strong stimulant ofwine and spirits, he left his home, and was absent for about two months. 

"What occurred to him during that time we none of us ever knew, but lateone night he came home, apparently much flurried in manner, and seemingas if something had happened to drive him half mad. 

"He would not speak to any one, but he shut himself up the whole of thenight in the chamber where hangs the portrait that bears so strong aresemblance to Sir Francis Varney, and there he remained till themorning, when he emerged, and said briefly that he intended to leave thecountry. 

"He was in a most fearful state of nervousness, and my mother tells methat he shook like one in an ague, and started at every little soundthat occurred in the house, and glared about him so wildly that it washorrible to see him, or to sit in the same apartment with him. 

"She says that the whole morning passed on in this way till a lettercame to him, the contents of which appeared to throw him into a perfectconvulsion of terror, and he retired again to the room with theportrait, where he remained some hours, and then he emerged, lookinglike a ghost, so dreadfully pale and haggard was he. 

"He walked into the garden here, and was seen to sit down in thissummer-house, and fix his eyes upon the window of that apartment. "

Henry paused for a few moments, and then he added, --

"You will excuse me from entering upon any details of what next ensuedin the melancholy history. My father here committed suicide. He wasfound dying, and all I he words he spoke were, 'The money is hidden!'Death claimed his victim, and, with a convulsive spasm, he resigned hisspirit, leaving what he had intended to say hidden in the oblivion ofthe grave. "

"That was an odd affair, " said the admiral. 

"It was, indeed. We have all pondered deeply, and the result was, that, upon the whole, we were inclined to come to an opinion that the words heso uttered were but the result of the mental disturbance that at such amoment might well be supposed to be ensuing in the mind, and that theyrelated really to no foregone fact any more than some incoherent wordsuttered by a man in a dream might be supposed to do. "

"It may be so. "

"I do not mean, " remarked Mr. Chillingworth, "for one moment to attemptto dispute, Henry, the rationality of such an opinion as you have justgiven utterance to; but you forget that another circumstance occurred, which gave a colour to the words used by your father. "

"Yes; I know to what you allude. "

"Be so good as to state it to the admiral. "

"I will. On the evening of that same day there came a man here, who, inseeming ignorance of what had occurred, although by that time it waswell known to all the neighbourhood, asked to see my father. 

"Upon being told that he was dead, he started back, either with wellacted or with real surprise, and seemed to be immensely chagrined. Hethen demanded to know if he had left any disposition of his property;but he got no information, and departed muttering the most diabolicaloaths and curses that can be imagined. He mounted his horse, for he hadridden to the Hall and his last words were, as I am told--

"'Where, in the name of all that's damnable, can he have put themoney!'"

"And did you never find out who this man was?" asked the admiral. 

"Never. "

"It is an odd affair. "

"It is, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "and full of mystery. The public mindwas much taken up at the time with some other matters, or it would havemade the death of Mr. Bannerworth the subject of more prolific commentthan it did. As it was, however, a great deal was said upon the subject, and the whole comity was in a state of commotion for weeks afterwards. "

"Yes, " said Henry; "it so happened that about that very time a murderwas committed in the neighbourhood of London, which baffled all theexertions of the authorities to discover the perpetrators of. It was themurder of Lord Lorne. "

"Oh! I remember, " said the admiral; "the newspapers were full of it fora long time. "

"They were; and so, as Mr. Chillingworth says, the more excitinginterest which that affair created drew off public attention, in a greatmeasure, from my father's suicide, and we did not suffer so much frompublic remark and from impertinent curiosity as might have beenexpected. "

"And, in addition, " said Mr. Chillingworth, and he changed colour alittle as he spoke, "there was an execution shortly afterwards. "

"Yes, " said Henry, "there was. "

"The execution of a man named Angerstein, " added Mr. Chillingworth, "fora highway robbery, attended with the most brutal violence. "

"True; all the affairs of that period of time are strongly impressedupon my mind, " said Henry; "but you do not seem well, Mr. Chillingworth. "

"Oh, yes; I am quite well--you are mistaken. "

Both the admiral and Henry looked scrutinizingly at the doctor, whocertainly appeared to them to be labouring under some great mentalexcitement, which he found it almost beyond his power to repress. 

"I tell you what it is, doctor, " said the admiral; "I don't pretend, andnever did, to see further through a tar-barrel than my neighbours; but Ican see far enough to feel convinced that you have got something on yourmind, and that it somehow concerns this affair. "

"Is it so?" said Henry. 

"I cannot if I would, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "and I may with truthadd, that I would not, if I could, hide from you that I have somethingon my mind connected with this affair; but let me assure you it would bepremature of me to tell you of it. "

"Premature be d----d!" said the admiral; "out with it. "

"Nay, nay, dear sir; I am not now in a position to say what is passingthrough my mind. "

"Alter your position, then, and be blowed!" cried Jack Pringle, suddenlystepping forward, and giving the doctor such a push, that he nearly wentthrough one of the sides of the summer-house. 

"Why, you scoundrel!" cried the admiral, "how came you here?"

"On my legs, " said Jack. "Do you think nobody wants to know nothing butyourself? I'm as fond of a yarn as anybody. "

"But if you are, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "you had no occasion to comeagainst me as if you wanted to move a house. "

"You said as you wasn't in a position to say something as I wanted tohear, so I thought I'd alter it for you. "

"Is this fellow, " said the doctor, shaking his head, as he accosted theadmiral, "the most artful or stupid?"

"A little of both, " said Admiral Bell--"a little of both, doctor. He's agreat fool and a great scamp. "

"The same to you, " said Jack; "you're another. I shall hate youpresently, if you go on making yourself so ridiculous. Now, mind, I'llonly give you a trial of another week or so, and if you don't be morepurlite in your d--n language, I'll leave you. "

Away strolled Jack, with his hands in his pockets, towards the house, while the admiral was half choked with rage, and could only glare afterhim, without the ability to say a word. 

Under any other circumstances than the present one of trouble, anddifficulty; and deep anxiety, Henry Bannerworth must have laughed atthese singular little episodes between Jack and the admiral; but hismind was now by far too much harassed to permit him to do so. 

"Let him go, let him go, my dear sir, " said Mr. Chillingworth to theadmiral, who showed some signs of an intention to pursue Jack; "he nodoubt has been drinking again. "

"I'll turn him off the first moment I catch him sober enough tounderstand me, " said the admiral. 

"Well, well; do as you please; but now let me ask a favour of both ofyou. "

"What is it?"

"That you will leave Bannerworth Hall to me for a week. "

"What for?"

"I hope to make some discoveries connected with it which shall wellreward you for the trouble. "

"It's no trouble, " said Henry; "and for myself, I have amply sufficientfaith, both in your judgment and in your friendship, doctor, to accedeto any request which you may make to me. "

"And I, " said the admiral. "Be it so--be it so. For one week, you say?"

"Yes--for one week. I hope, by the end of that time, to have achievedsomething worth the telling you of; and I promise you that, if I am atall disappointed in my expectation, that I will frankly and freelycommunicate to you all I know and all I suspect. "

"Then that's a bargain. "

"It is. "

"And what's to be done at once?"

"Why, nothing, but to take the greatest possible care that BannerworthHall is not left another hour without some one in it; and in order thatsuch should be the case, I have to request that you two will remain hereuntil I go to the town, and make preparations for taking quietpossession of it myself, which I will do in the course of two hours, atmost. "

"Don't be longer, " said the admiral, for I am so desperately hungry, that I shall certainly begin to eat somebody, if you are. "

"Depend upon me. "

"Very well, " said Henry; "you may depend we will wait here until youcome back. "

The doctor at once hurried from the garden, leaving Henry and theadmiral to amuse themselves as best they might, with conjectures as towhat he was really about, until his return. 

CHAPTER LXII. 

THE MYSTERIOUS MEETING IN THE RUIN AGAIN. --THE VAMPYRE'S ATTACK UPON THECONSTABLE. 

[Illustration]

It is now necessary that we return once more to that mysterious ruin, inthe intricacies of which Varney, when pursued by the mob, had succeededin finding a refuge which defied all the exertions which were made forhis discovery. Our readers must be well aware, that, connected with thatruin, are some secrets of great importance to our story; and we willnow, at the solemn hour of midnight, take another glance at what isdoing within its recesses. 

At that solemn hour it is not probable that any one would seek thatgloomy place from choice. Some lover of the picturesque certainly mightvisit it; but such was not the inciting cause of the pilgrimage withthose who were soon to stand within its gloomy precincts. 

Other motives dictated their presence in that spot--motives of rapine;peradventure of murder itself. 

As the neighbouring clocks sounded the hour of twelve, and the faintstrokes were borne gently on the wind to that isolated ruin, there mighthave been seen a tall man standing by the porch of what had once been alarge doorway to some portion of the ruin. 

His form was enveloped in a large cloak, which was of such amplematerial that he seemed well able to wrap it several times around him, and then leave a considerable portion of it floating idly in the gentlewind. 

He stood as still, as calm, and as motionless as a statue, for aconsiderable time, before any degree of impatience began to show itself. 

Then he took from his pocket a large antique watch, the white face ofwhich just enabled him to see what the time was, and, in a voice whichhad in it some amount of petulance and anger, he said, --

"Not come yet, and nearly half an hour beyond the time! What can havedetained him? This is, indeed, trifling with the most important momentsof a man's existence. "

Even as he spoke, he heard, from some distance off, the sound of ashort, quick footstep. He bent forwards to listen, and then, in a toneof satisfaction, he said, --

"He comes--he comes!"

But he who thus waited for some confederate among these dim and old greyruins, advanced not a step to meet him. On the contrary, such seemed theamount of cold-blooded caution which he possessed, that the nearer theman--who was evidently advancing--got to the place, the further back didhe who had preceded him shrink into the shadow of the dim and crumblingwalls, which had, for some years now past, seemed to bend to the passingblast, and to be on the point of yielding to the destroying hand oftime. 

And yet, surely he needed not have been so cautious. Who was likely, atsuch an hour as that, to come to the ruins, but one who sought it byappointment?

And, moreover, the manner of the advancing man should have been quitesufficient to convince him who waited, that so much caution wasunnecessary; but it was a part and parcel of his nature. 

About three minutes more sufficed to bring the second man to the ruin, and he, at once, and fearlessly, plunged into its recesses. 

"Who comes?" said the first man, in a deep, hollow voice. 

"He whom you expect, " was the reply. 

"Good, " he said, and at once he now emerged from his hiding-place, andthey stood together in the nearly total darkness with which the placewas enshrouded; for the night was a cloudy one, and there appeared not astar in the heavens, to shed its faint light upon the scene below. 

For a few moments they were both silent, for he who had last arrived hadevidently made great exertions to reach the spot, and was breathinglaboriously, while he who was there first appeared, from some naturaltaciturnity of character, to decline opening the conversation. 

At length the second comer spoke, saying, --

"I have made some exertion to get here to my time, and yet I am beyondit, as you are no doubt aware. "

"Yes, yes. "

"Well, such would not have been the case; but yet, I stayed to bring yousome news of importance. "

"Indeed!"

"It is so. This place, which we have, now for some time had as a quietand perfectly eligible one of meeting, is about to be invaded by one ofthose restless, troublesome spirits, who are never happy but when theyare contriving something to the annoyance of others who do not interferewith them. "

"Explain yourself more fully. "

"I will. At a tavern in the town, there has happened some strange scenesof violence, in consequence of the general excitement into which thecommon people have been thrown upon the dreadful subject of vampyres. "

"Well. "

"The consequence is, that numerous arrests have taken place, and theplaces of confinement for offenders against the laws are now full ofthose whose heated and angry imaginations have induced them to takeviolent steps to discover the reality or the falsehood of rumours whichso much affected them, their wives, and their families, that they fearedto lie down to their night's repose. "

The other laughed a short, hollow, restless sort of laugh, which had notone particle of real mirth in it. 

"Go on--go on, " he said. "What did they do?"

"Immense excesses have been committed; but what made me, first of all, stay beyond my time, was that I overheard a man declare his intentionsthis night, from twelve till the morning, and for some nights to come, to hold watch and ward for the vampyre. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes. He did but stay, at the earnest solicitation of his comrades, totake yet another glass, ere he came upon his expedition. "

"He must be met. The idiot! what business is it of his?"

"There are always people who will make everything their business, whether it be so or not. "

"There are. Let us retire further into the recesses of the ruin, andthere consider as well what is to be done regarding more importantaffairs, as with this rash intruder here. "

They both walked for some twenty paces, or so, right into the ruin, andthen he who had been there first, said, suddenly, to his companion, --

"I am annoyed, although the feeling reaches no further than annoyance, for I have a natural love of mischief, to think that my reputation hasspread so widely, and made so much noise. "

"Your reputation as a vampyre, Sir Francis Varney, you mean?"

"Yes; but there is no occasion for you to utter my name aloud, even herewhere we are alone together. "

"It came out unawares. "

"Unawares! Can it be possible that you have so little command overyourself as to allow a name to come from your lips unawares?"

"Sometimes. "

"I am surprised. "

"Well, it cannot be helped. What do you now propose to do?"

"Nay, you are my privy councillor. Have you no deep-laid, artful projectin hand? Can you not plan and arrange something which may yet have theeffect of accomplishing what at first seemed so very simple, but whichhas, from one unfortunate circumstance and another, become full ofdifficulty and pregnant with all sorts of dangers?"

"I must confess I have no plan. "

"I listen with astonishment. "

"Nay, now, you are jesting. "

"When did you ever hear of me jesting?"

"Not often, I admit. But you have a fertile genius, and I have always, myself, found it easier to be the executive than to plan an elaboratecourse of action for others. "

"Then you throw it all on me?"

"I throw a weight, naturally enough, upon the shoulders which I thinkthe best adapted to sustain it. "

"Be it so, then--be it so. "

"You are, I presume, from what you say, provided with a scheme of actionwhich shall present better hopes of success, at less risk, I hope. Lookwhat great danger we have already passed through. "

"Yes, we have. "

"I pray you avoid that in the next campaign. "

"It is not the danger that annoys and troubles me, but it is that, notwithstanding it, the object is as far off as ever from beingattained. "

"And not only so, but, as is invariably the case under suchcircumstances, we have made it more difficult of execution because wehave put those upon their guard thoroughly who are the most likely tooppose us. "

"We have--we have. "

"And placed the probability of success afar off indeed. "

"And yet I have set my life upon the cast, and I will stand the hazard. I tell you I will accomplish this object, or I will perish in theattempt. "

"You are too enthusiastic. "

"Not at all. Nothing has been ever done, the execution of which wasdifficult, without enthusiasm. I will do what I intend, or BannerworthHall shall become a heap of ruins, where fire shall do its worst work ofdevastation, and I will myself find a grave in the midst. "

"Well, I quarrel with no man for chalking out the course he intends topursue; but what do you mean to do with the prisoner below here?"

"Kill him. "

"What?"

"I say kill him. Do you not understand me?"

"I do, indeed. "

"When everything else is secured, and when the whole of that which I somuch court, and which I will have, is in my possession, I will take hislife, or you shall. Ay, you are just the man for such a deed. Asmooth-faced, specious sort of roan are you, and you like not danger. There will be none in taking the life of a man who is chained to thefloor of a dungeon. "

"I know not why, " said the other, "you take a pleasure on thisparticular night, of all others, in saying all you can which you thinkwill be offensive to me. "

"Now, how you wrong me. This is the reward of confidence. "

"I don't want such confidence. "

"Why, you surely don't want me to flatter you. "

"No; but--"

"Psha! Hark you. That admiral is the great stumbling-block in my way. Ishould ere this have had undisturbed possession of Bannerworth Hall butfor him. He must be got out of the way somehow. "

"A short time will tire him out of watching. He is one of those men ofimpulse who soon become wearied of inaction. "

"Ay, and then the Bannerworths return to the Hall. "

"It may be so. "

"I am certain of it. We have been out-generalled in this matter, although I grant we did all that men could do to give us success. "

"In what way would you get rid of this troublesome admiral?"

"I scarcely know. A letter from his nephew might, if well put together, get him to London. "

"I doubt it. I hate him mortally. He has offended me more than once mostgrievously. "

"I know it. He saw through you. "

"I do not give him so much credit. He is a suspicious man, and a vainand a jealous one. "

"And yet he saw through you. Now, listen to me. You are completely atfault, and have no plan of operations whatever in your mind. What I wantyou to do is, to disappear from the neighbourhood for a time, and sowill I. As for our prisoner here below, I cannot see what else can bedone with him than--than--"

"Than what? Do you hesitate?"

"I do. "

"Then what is it you were about to say?"

"I cannot but feel that all we have done hitherto, as regards this youngprisoner of ours, has failed. He has, with a determined obstinacy, setat naught, as well you know, all threats. "

"He has. "

"He has refused to do one act which could in any way aid me in myobjects. In fact, from the first to the last, he has been nothing but anexpense and an encumbrance to us both. "

"All that is strictly true. "

"And yet, although you, as well as I, know of a marvellously ready wayof getting rid of such encumbrances, I must own, that I shrink with morethan a feeling of reluctance from the murder of the youth. "

"You contemplated it then?" asked the other. 

"No; I cannot be said to have contemplated it. That is not the propersort of expression to use. "

"What is then?"

"To contemplate a deed seems to me to have some close connexion to thewish to do it. "

"And you have no such wish?"

"I have no such wish, and what is more I will not do it. "

"Then that is sufficient; and the only question that remains for you toconfide, is, what you will do. It is far easier in all enterprises todecide upon what we will not do, than upon what we will. For my own partI must say that I can perceive no mode of extricating ourselves fromthis involvement with anything like safety. "

"Then it must be done with something like danger. "

"As you please. "

"You say so, and your words bear a clear enough signification; but fromyour tone I can guess how much you are dissatisfied with the aspect ofaffairs. "

"Dissatisfied!"

"Yes; I say, dissatisfied. Be frank, and own that which it is in vain toconceal from me. I know you too well; arch hypocrite as you are, andfully capable of easily deceiving many, you cannot deceive me. "

"I really cannot understand you. "

"Then I will take care that you shall. "

"How?"

"Listen. I will not have the life of Charles Holland taken. "

"Who wishes to take it?"

"You. "

"There, indeed, you wrong me. Unless you yourself thought that such anact was imperatively called for by the state of affairs, do you thinkthat I would needlessly bring down upon my head the odium as well as thedanger of such a deed? No, no. Let him live, if you are willing; he maylive a thousand years for all I care. "

"'Tis well. I am, mark me, not only willing, but I am determined that heshall live so far as we are concerned. I can respect the courage that, even when he considered that his life was at stake, enabled him to sayno to a proposal which was cowardly and dishonourable, although it wentfar to the defeat of my own plans and has involved me in much trouble. "

"Hush! hush!"

"What is it?"

"I fancy I hear a footstep. "

"Indeed; that were a novelty in such a place as this. "

"And yet not more than I expected. Have you forgotten what I told youwhen I reached here to-night after the appointed hour?"

"Truly; I had for the moment. Do you think then that the footstep whichnow meets our ears, is that of the adventurer who boasted that he couldkeep watch for the vampyre?"

"In faith do I. What is to be done with such a meddling fool?"

"He ought certainly to be taught not to be so fond of interfering withother people's affairs. "

"Certainly. "

"Perchance the lesson will not be wholly thrown away upon others. It maybe worth while to take some trouble with this poor valiant fellow, andlet him spread his news so as to stop any one else from being equallyventurous and troublesome. "

"A good thought. "

"Shall it be done?"

"Yes; if you will arrange that which shall accomplish such a result. "

"Be it so. The moon rises soon. "

"It does. "

"Ah, already I fancy I see a brightening of the air as if the mellowradiance of the queen of night were already quietly diffusing itselfthroughout the realms of space. Come further within the ruins. "

They both walked further among the crumbling walls and fragments ofcolumns with which the place abounded. As they did so they paused nowand then to listen, and more than once they both heard plainly the soundof certain footsteps immediately outside the once handsome and spaciousbuilding. 

Varney, the vampyre, who had been holding this conversation with noother than Marchdale, smiled as he, in a whispered voice, told thelatter what to do in order to frighten away from the place the foolhardyman who thought that, by himself, he should be able to accomplishanything against the vampyre. 

It was, indeed, a hair-brained expedition, for whether Sir FrancisVarney was really so awful and preternatural a being as so manyconcurrent circumstances would seem to proclaim, or not, he was not alikely being to allow himself to be conquered by anyone individual, lethis powers or his courage be what they might. 

What induced this man to become so ventursome we shall now proceed torelate, as well as what kind of reception he got in the old ruins, which, since the mysterious disappearance of Sir Francis Varney withintheir recesses, had possessed so increased a share of interest andattracted so much popular attention and speculation. 

CHAPTER LXIII. 

THE GUESTS AT THE INN, AND THE STORY OF THE DEAD UNCLE. 

[Illustration]

As had been truly stated by Mr. Marchdale, who now stands out in histrue colours to the reader as the confidant and abettor of Sir FrancisVarney, there had assembled on that evening a curious and a gossippingparty at the inn where such dreadful and such riotous proceedings hadtaken place, which, in their proper place, we have already duly and atlength recorded. 

It was not very likely that, on that evening, or for many and many anevening to come, the conversation in the parlour of the inn would beupon any other subject than that of the vampyre. 

Indeed, the strange, mysterious, and horrible circumstances which hadoccurred, bade fair to be gossipping stock in trade for many a year. 

Never before had a subject presenting so many curious features arisen. Never, within the memory of that personage who is supposed to knoweverything, had there occurred any circumstance in the county, or set ofcircumstances, which afforded such abundant scope for conjecture andspeculation. 

Everybody might have his individual opinion, and be just as likely to beright as his neighbours; and the beauty of the affair was, that such wasthe interest of the subject itself, that there was sure to be a kind ofreflected interest with every surmise that at all bore upon it. 

[Illustration]

On this particular night, when Marchdale was prowling about, gatheringwhat news he could, in order that he might carry it to the vampyre, amore than usually strong muster of the gossips of the town took place. 

Indeed, all of any note in the talking way were there, with theexception of one, and he was in the county gaol, being one of theprisoners apprehended by the military when they made the successfulattack upon the lumber-room of the inn, after the dreadful desecrationof the dead which had taken place. 

The landlord of the inn was likely to make a good thing of it, fortalking makes people thirsty; and he began to consider that a vampyreabout once a-year would be no bad thing for the Blue Lion. 

"It's shocking, " said one of the guests; "it's shocking to think of. Only last night, I am quite sure I had such a fright that it added atleast ten years to my age. "

"A fright!" said several. 

"I believe I speak English--I said a fright. "

"Well, but had it anything to do with the vampyre?"

"Everything. "

"Oh! do tell us; do tell us all about it. How was it? Did he come toyou? Go on. Well, well. "

The first speaker became immediately a very important personage in theroom; and, when he saw that, he became at once a very importantpersonage in his own eyes likewise; and, before he would speak anotherword, he filled a fresh pipe, and ordered another mug of ale. 

"It's no use trying to hurry him, " said one. 

"No, " he said, "it isn't. I'll tell you in good time what a dreadfulcircumstance has made me sixty-three to-day, when I was only fifty-threeyesterday. "

"Was it very dreadful?"

"Rather. You wouldn't have survived it at all. "

"Indeed!"

"No. Now listen. I went to bed at a quarter after eleven, as usual. Ididn't notice anything particular in the room. "

"Did you peep under the bed?"

"No, I didn't. Well, as I was a-saying, to bed I went, and I didn'tfasten the door; because, being a very sound sleeper, in case there wasa fire, I shouldn't hear a word of it if I did. "

"No, " said another. "I recollect once--"

"Be so good as allow me to finish what I know, before you begin torecollect anything, if you please. As I was saying, I didn't lock thedoor, but I went to bed. Somehow or another, I did not feel at allcomfortable, and I tossed about, first on one side, and then on theother; but it was all in vain; I only got, every moment, more and morefidgetty. "

"And did you think of the vampyre?" said one of the listeners. 

"I thought of nothing else till I heard my clock, which is on thelanding of the stairs above my bed-room, begin to strike twelve. "

"Ah! I like to hear a clock sound in the night, " said one; "it puts onein mind of the rest of the world, and lets one know one isn't allalone. "

"Very good. The striking of the clock I should not at all have objectedto; but it was what followed that did the business. "

"What, what?"

"Fair and softly; fair and softly. Just hand me a light, Mr. Sprigs, ifyou please. I'll tell you all, gentlemen, in a moment or two. "

With the most provoking deliberation, the speaker re-lit his pipe, whichhad gone out while he was talking, and then, after a few whiffs, toassure himself that its contents had thoroughly ignited, he resumed, --

"No sooner had the last sound of it died away, than I heard something onthe stairs. "

"Yes, yes. "

"It was as if some man had given his foot a hard blow against one of thestairs; and he would have needed to have had a heavy boot on to do it. Istarted up in bed and listened, as you may well suppose, not in the mosttranquil state of mind, and then I heard an odd, gnawing sort of noise, and then another dab upon one of the stairs. "

"How dreadful!"

"It was. What to do I knew not, or what to think, except that thevampyre had, by some means, got in at the attic window, and was comingdown stairs to my room. That seemed the most likely. Then there wasanother groan, and then another heavy step; and, as they were evidentlycoming towards my door, I felt accordingly, and got out of bed, notknowing hardly whether I was on my head or my heels, to try and lock mydoor. "

"Ah, to be sure. "

"Yes; that was all very well, if I could have done it; but a man in sucha state of mind as I was in is not a very sharp hand at doing anything. I shook from head to foot. The room was very dark, and I couldn't, for amoment or two, collect my senses sufficient really to know which way thedoor lay. "

"What a situation!"

"It was. Dab, dab, dab, came these horrid footsteps, and there was Igroping about the room in an agony. I heard them coming nearer andnearer to my door. Another moment, and they must have reached it, whenmy hand struck against the lock. "

"What an escape!"

"No, it was not. "

"No?"

"No, indeed. The key was on the outside, and you may well guess I wasnot over and above disposed to open the door to get at it. "

"No, no. "

"I felt regularly bewildered, I can tell you; it seemed to me as if thevery devil himself was coming down stairs hopping all the way upon oneleg. "

"How terrific!"

"I felt my senses almost leaving me; but I did what I could to hold thedoor shut just as I heard the strange step come from the last stair onto the landing. Then there was a horrid sound, and some one began tryingthe lock of my door. "

"What a moment!"

"Yes, I can tell you it was a moment. Such a moment as I don't wish togo through again. I held the door as close as I could, and did notspeak. I tried to cry out help and murder, but I could not; my tonguestuck to the roof of my mouth, and my strength was fast failing me. "

"Horrid, horrid!"

"Take a drop of ale. "

"Thank you. Well, I don't think this went on above two or three minutes, and all the while some one tried might and main to push open the door. My strength left me all at once; I had only time to stagger back a stepor two, and then, as the door opened, I fainted away. "

"Well, well!"

"Ah, you wouldn't have said well, if you had been there, I can tellyou. "

"No; but what become of you. What happened next? How did it end? Whatwas it?"

"Why, what exactly happened next after I fainted I cannot tell you; butthe first thing I saw when I recovered was a candle. "

"Yes, yes. "

"And then a crowd of people. "

"Ah, ah!"

"And then Dr. Web. "

"Gracious!"

"And. Mrs. Bulk, my housekeeper. I was in my own bed, and when I openedmy eyes I heard Dr. Webb say, --

"'He will be better soon. Can no one form any idea of what it is allabout. Some sudden fright surely could alone have produced such aneffect. '"

"'The Lord have mercy upon me!' said I. 

"Upon this everybody who had been called in got round the bed, andwanted to know what had happened; but I said not a word of it; butturning to Mrs. Bulk, I asked her how it was she found out I hadfainted. 

"'Why, sir, ' says she, 'I was coming up to bed as softly as I could, because I knew you had gone to rest some time before. The clock wasstriking twelve, and as I went past it some of my clothes, I suppose, caught the large weight, but it was knocked off, and down the stairs itrolled, going with such a lump from one to the other, and I couldn'tcatch it because it rolled so fast, that I made sure you would beawakened; so I came down to tell you what it was, and it was some timebefore I could get your room door open, and when I did I found you outof bed and insensible. '"

There was a general look of disappointment when this explanation wasgiven, and one said, --

"Then it was not the vampire?"

"Certainly not. "

"And, after all, only a clock weight. "

"That's about it. "

"Why didn't you tell us that at first?"

"Because that would have spoilt the story. "

There was a general murmur of discontent, and, after a few moments oneman said, with some vivacity, --

"Well, although our friend's vampyre has turned out, after all, to benothing but a confounded clock-weight, there's no disputing the factabout Sir Francis Varney being a vampyre, and not a clock-weight. "

"Very true--very true. "

"And what's to be done to rid the town of such a man?"

"Oh, don't call him a man. "

"Well, a monster. "

"Ah, that's more like. I tell you what, sir, if you had got a light, when you first heard the noise in your room, and gone out to see what itwas, you would have spared yourself much fright. "

"Ah, no doubt; it's always easy afterwards to say, if you had done this, and if you had done the other, so and so would have been the effect; butthere is something about the hour of midnight that makes men tremble. "

"Well, " said one, who had not yet spoken, "I don't see why twelve atnight should be a whit more disagreeable than twelve at day. "

"Don't you?"

"Not I. "

"Now, for instance, many a party of pleasure goes to that old ruin whereSir Francis Varney so unaccountably disappeared in broad daylight. Butis there any one here who would go to it alone, and at midnight?"

"Yes. "

"Who?"

"I would. "

"What! and after what has happened as regards the vampyre in connectionwith it?"

"Yes, I would. "

"I'll bet you twenty shilling you won't. "

"And I--and I, " cried several. 

"Well, gentlemen, " said the man, who certainly shewed no signs of fear, "I will go, and not only will I go and take all your bets, but, if I domeet the vampyre, then I'll do my best to take him prisoner. "

"And when will you go?"

"To-night, " he cried, and he sprang to his feet; "hark ye all, I don'tbelieve one word about vampyres. I'll go at once; it's getting late, andlet any one of you, in order that you may be convinced I have been tothe place, give me any article, which I will hide among the ruins; andtell you where to find it to-morrow in broad daylight. "

"Well, " said one, "that's fair, Tom Eccles. Here's a handkerchief ofmine; I should know it again among a hundred others. "

"Agreed; I'll leave it in the ruins. "

The wagers were fairly agreed upon; several handkerchiefs were handed toTom Eccles; and at eleven o'clock he fairly started, through the murkydarkness of the night, to the old ruin where Sir Francis Varney andMarchdale were holding their most unholy conference. 

It is one thing to talk and to accept wagers in the snug parlour of aninn, and another to go alone across a tract of country wrapped in theprofound stillness of night to an ancient ruin which, in addition to thenatural gloom which might well be supposed to surround it, hassuperadded associations which are anything but of a pleasant character. 

Tom Eccles, as he was named, was one of those individuals who actgreatly from impulse. He was certainly not a coward, and, perhaps, really as free from superstition as most persons, but he was human, andconsequently he had nerves, and he had likewise an imagination. 

He went to his house first before he started on his errand to the ruins. It was to get a horse-pistol which he had, and which he duly loaded andplaced in his pocket. Then he wrapped himself up in a great-coat, andwith the air of a man quite determined upon something desperate he leftthe town. 

The guests at the inn looked after him as he walked from the door ofthat friendly establishment, and some of them, as they saw his resolvedaspect, began to quake for the amount of the wagers they had laid uponhis non-success. 

However, it was resolved among them, that they would stay untilhalf-past twelve, in the expectation of his return, before theyseparated. 

To while away the time, he who had been so facetious about his story ofthe clock-weight, volunteered to tell what happened to a friend of hiswho went to take possession of some family property which he becamepossessed of as heir-at-law to an uncle who had died without a will, having an illegitimate family unprovided for in every shape. 

"Ah! nobody cares for other people's illegitimate children, and, iftheir parents don't provide for them, why, the workhouse is open forthem, just as if they were something different from other people. "

"So they are; if their parents don't take care of them, and provide forthem, nobody else will, as you say, neighbour, except when they have aFitz put to their name, which tells you they are royal bastards, and ofcourse unlike anybody else's. "

"But go on--let's know all about it; we sha'n't hear what he has got tosay at all, at this rate. "

"Well, as I was saying, or about to say, the nephew, as soon as he heardhis uncle was dead, comes and claps his seal upon everything in thehouse. "

"But, could he do so?" inquired one of the guests. 

"I don't see what was to hinder him, " replied a third. "He could do so, certainly. "

"But there was a son, and, as I take it, a son's nearer than a nephewany day. "

"But the son is illegitimate. "

"Legitimate, or illegitimate, a son's a son; don't bother me aboutdistinction of that sort; why, now, there was old Weatherbit--"

"Order, order. "

"Let's hear the tale. "

"Very good, gentlemen, I'll go on, if I ain't to be interrupted; butI'll say this, that an illegitimate son is no son, in the eyes of thelaw; or at most he's an accident quite, and ain't what he is, and socan't inherit. "

"Well, that's what I call making matters plain, " said one of the guests, who took his pipe from his mouth to make room for the remark; "now thatis what I likes. "

"Well, as I have proved then, " resumed the speaker, "the nephew was theheir, and into the house he would come. A fine affair it was too--theillegitimates looking the colour of sloes; but he knew the law, andwould have it put in force. "

"Law's law, you know. "

"Uncommonly true that; and the nephew stuck to it like a cobbler to hislast--he said they should go out, and they did go out; and, say whatthey would about their natural claims, he would not listen to them, butbundled them out and out in a pretty short space of time. "

"It was trying to them, mind you, to leave the house they had been bornin with very different expectations to those which now appeared to betheir fate. Poor things, they looked ruefully enough, and well theymight, for there was a wide world for them, and no prospect of a warmcorner. 

"Well, as I was saying, he had them all out and the house clear tohimself. 

"Now, " said he, "I have an open field and no favour. I don't care forno--Eh! what?"

"There was a sudden knocking, he thought, the door, and went and openedit, but nothing was to be seen. 

"Oh! I see--somebody next door; and if it wasn't, it don't matter. There's nobody here. I'm alone, and there's plenty of valuables in thehouse. That is what I call very good company. I wouldn't wish forbetter. "

He turned about, looked over room after room, and satisfied himself thathe was alone--that the house was empty. 

At every room he entered he paused to think over the value--what it wasworth, and that he was a very fortunate man in having dropped into sucha good thing. "

"Ah! there's the old boy's secretary, too--his bureau--there'll besomething in that that will amuse me mightily; but I don't think I shallsit up late. He was a rum old man, to say the least of it--a very oddsort of man. "

With that he gave himself a shrug, as if some very uncomfortable feelinghad come over him. 

"I'll go to bed early, and get some sleep, and then in daylight I canlook after these papers. They won't be less interesting in the morningthan they are now. "

There had been some rum stories about the old man, and now the nephewseemed to think he might have let the family sleep on the premises forthat night; yes, at that moment he could have found it in his heart tohave paid for all the expense of their keep, had it been possible tohave had them back to remain the night. 

But that wasn't possible, for they would not have done it, but soonerhave remained in the streets all night than stay there all night, likeso many house-dogs, employed by one who stepped in between them andtheir father's goods, which were their inheritance, but for one triflingcircumstance--a mere ceremony. 

The night came on, and he had lights. True it was he had not been downstairs, only just to have a look. He could not tell what sort of a placeit was; there were a good many odd sort of passages, that seemed to endnowhere, and others that did. 

There were large doors; but they were all locked, and he had the keys;so he didn't mind, but secured all places that were not fastened. 

He then went up stairs again, and sat down in the room where the bureauwas placed. 

"I'll be bound, " said one of the guests, "he was in a bit of a stew, notwithstanding all his brag. "

"Oh! I don't believe, " said another, "that anything done that isdangerous, or supposed to be dangerous, by the bravest man, is any waywholly without some uncomfortable feelings. They may not be strongenough to prevent the thing proposed to be done from being done, butthey give a disagreeable sensation to the skin. "

"You have felt it, then?"

"Ha! ha! ha!"

"Why, at that time I slept in the churchyard for a wager, I must say Ifelt cold all over, as if my skin was walking about me in anuncomfortable manner. "

"But you won your wager?"

"I did. "

"And of course you slept there?"

"To be sure I did. "

"And met with nothing?"

"Nothing, save a few bumps against the gravestones. "

"Those were hard knocks, I should say. "

"They were, I assure you; but I lay there, and slept there, and won mywager. "

"Would you do it again?"

"No. "

"And why not?"

"Because of the rheumatism. "

"You caught that?"

"I did; I would give ten times my wager to get rid of them. I have themvery badly. "

"Come, order, order--the tale; let's hear the end of that, since it hasbegun. "

"With all my heart. Come, neighbour. "

"Well, as I said, he was fidgetty; but yet he was not a man to be veryeasily frightened or overcome, for he was stout and bold. 

"When he shut himself up in the room, he took out a bottle of some goodwine, and helped himself to drink; it was good old wine, and he soonfelt himself warmed and, comforted. He could have faced the enemy. 

"If one bottle produces such an effect, " he muttered, "what will twodo?"

This was a question that could only be solved by trying it, and this heproceeded to do. 

But first he drew a brace of long barrelled pistols from his coatpocket, and taking a powder-flask and bullets from his pocket also, heloaded them very carefully. 

"There, " said he, "are my bull-dogs; and rare watch-dogs they are. Theynever bark but they bite. Now, if anybody does come, it will be all upwith them. Tricks upon travellers ain't a safe game when I have these;and now for the other bottle. "

He drew the other bottle, and thought, if anything, it was better thanthe first. He drank it rather quick, to be sure, and then he began tofeel sleepy and tired. 

"I think I shall go to bed, " he said; "that is, if I can find my waythere, for it does seem to me as if the door was travelling. Never mind, it will make a call here again presently, and then I'll get through. "

So saying he arose. Taking the candle in his hand, he walked with abetter step than might have been expected under the circumstance. Trueit was the candle wagged to and fro, and his shadow danced upon thewall; but still, when he got to the bed, he secured his door, put thelight in a safe place, threw himself down, and was fast asleep in a fewmoments, or rather he fell into a doze instantaneously. 

How long he remained in this state he knew not, but he was suddenlyawakened by a loud bang, as though something heavy and flat had fallenupon the floor--such, for instance, as a door, or anything of that sort. He jumped up, rubbed his eyes, and could even then hear thereverberations through the house. 

"What is that?" he muttered; "what is that?"

He listened, and thought he could hear something moving down stairs, andfor a moment he was seized with an ague fit; but recollecting, Isuppose, that there were some valuables down stairs that were worthfighting for, he carefully extinguished the light that still burned, andsoftly crept down stairs. 

When he got down stairs he thought he could hear some one scramble upthe kitchen stairs, and then into the room where the bureau was. Listening for a moment to ascertain if there were more than one, andthen feeling convinced there was not, he followed into the parlour, whenhe heard the cabinet open by a key. 

This was a new miracle, and one he could not understand; and then hehoard the papers begin to rattle and rustle; so, drawing out one of thepistols, he cocked it, and walked in. 

The figure instantly began to jump about; it was dressed in white--ingrave-clothes. He was terribly nervous, and shook, so he feared to firethe pistol; but at length he did, and the report was followed by a falland a loud groan. 

This was very dreadful--very dreadful; but all was quiet, and he lit thecandle again, and approached the body to examine it, and ascertain if heknew who it was. A groan came from it. The bureau was open, and thefigure clutched firmly a will in his hand. 

The figure was dressed in grave-clothes, and he started up when he sawthe form and features of his own uncle, the man who was dead, whosomehow or other had escaped his confinement, and found his way up, here. He held his will firmly; and the nephew was so horrified andstunned, that he threw down the light, and rushed out of the room with ashout of terror, and never returned again. 

 * * * * *

The narrator concluded, and one of the guests said, --

"And do you really believe it?"--"No, no--to be sure not. "

"You don't?"--"Why should I? My friend was, out of all hand, one of thegreatest liars I ever came near; and why, therefore, should I believehim? I don't, on my conscience, believe one word of it. "

It was now half-past twelve, and, as Tom Eccles came not back, and thelandlord did not feel disposed to draw any more liquor, they left theinn, and retired to their separate houses in a great state of anxiety toknow the fate of their respective wagers. 

CHAPTER LXIV. 

THE VAMPIRE IN THE MOONLIGHT. --THE FALSE FRIEND. 

[Illustration]

Part of the distance being accomplished towards the old ruins, TomEccles began to feel that what he had undertaken was not altogether suchchild's-play as he had at first imagined it to be. Somehow or another, with a singular and uncomfortable sort of distinctness, there cameacross his mind every story that he had remembered of the wild and thewonderful. All the long-since forgotten tales of superstition that inearly childhood he had learned, came now back upon him, suggesting tohis mind a thousand uncomfortable fancies of the strangest description. 

It was not likely that when once a man, under such circumstances, gotinto such a frame of mind, he would readily get out of it again, whilehe continued surrounded by such scenes as had first called them intoexistence. 

No doubt, had he turned about, and faced the inn again instead of theold ruins he would soon have shaken off these "thick coming fancies;"but such a result was no to be expected, so long as he kept on towardsthe dismal place he had pledged himself to reach. 

As he traversed meadow after meadow he began to ask himself somequestions which he found that he could not answer exactly in aconsolatory manner, under the present state of things. 

Among these question was the very pertinent one of, --"It's no argumentagainst vampyres, because I don't see the use of 'em--is it?" This hewas compelled to answer as he had put it; and when, in addition, hebegan to recollect that, without the shadow of a doubt, Sir FrancisVarney the supposed vampyre, had been chased across the fields to thatvery ruin whither he was bound, and had then and there disappeared, hecertainly found himself in decidedly uncomfortable and most unpromisingsituation. 

"No, " he said, "no. Hang it, I won't go back now, to be made thelaughing-stock of the whole town, which I should be. Come what may ofit, I will go on as I have commenced; so I shall put on as stout a heartas I can. "

Then, having come to this resolve, he strove might and main to banishfrom his mind those disagreeable reminiscences that had been oppressinghim, to turn his attention to subjects of a different complexion. 

During the progress of making this endeavour, which was rather futile, he came within sight of the ruins. Then he slackened his pace a little, telling himself, with a pardonable self-deceit, that it was common, ordinary caution only, which induced him to do so, and nothing at all inthe shape of fear. 

"Time enough, " he remarked, "to be afraid, when I see anything to beafraid of, which I don't see as yet. So, as all's right, I may as wellput a good face upon the matter. "

He tried to whistle a tune, but it turned out only a melancholy failure;so he gave that up in despair, and walked on until he got within ahundred yards, or thereabouts, of the old ruins. 

He thus proceeded, and bending his ear close to the ground, he listenedattentively for several minutes. Somehow, he fancied that a strange, murmuring sound came to his ears; but he was not quite sure that itproceeded from the ruins, because it was just that sort of sound thatmight come from a long way off, being mellowed by distance, although, perhaps, loud enough at its source. 

"Well, well, " he whispered to himself, "it don't matter much, after all. Go I must, and hide the handkerchiefs somewhere, or else be laughed at, besides losing my wages. The former I don't like, and the latter Icannot afford. "

Thus clinching the matter by such knock-down arguments, he walked onuntil he was almost within the very shadow of the ruins, and, probably, it was at this juncture that his footsteps may have been heard byMarchdale and Sir Francis Varney. 

Then he paused again; but all was profoundly still, and he began tothink that the strange sort of murmuring noise which he had heard musthave come from far off and not at all from any person or persons withinthe ruins. 

"Let me see, " he said to himself; "I have five handkerchiefs to hideamong the old ruins somewhere, and the sooner I do so the better, because then I will get away; for, as regards staying here to watch, Heaven knows how long, for Sir Francis Varney, I don't intend to do it, upon second thoughts and second thoughts, they say, are generally best. "

With the most careful footsteps now, as if he were treading upon somefragile substance, which he feared to injure, he advanced until he wasfairly within the precincts of the ancient place, which now bore so illa reputation. 

He then made to himself much the same remark that Sir Francis Varney hadmade to Marchdale, with respect to the brightening up of the sky, inconsequence of its being near the time for the moon to rise from thehorizon, and he saw more clearly around him, although he could not findany good place to hide the handkerchiefs in. 

"I must and will, " he said, "hide them securely; for it would, indeed, be remarkably unpleasant, after coming here and winning my wages, tohave the proofs that I had done so taken away by some chance visitor tothe place. "

He at length saw a tolerably large stone, which stood, in a slantposition, up against one of the walls. Its size attracted him. Hethought, if his strength was sufficient to move it, that it would be agood thing to do so, and to place the handkerchiefs beneath it; for, atall events, it was so heavy that it could not be kicked aside, and noone, without some sort of motive to do so, beyond the mere love oflabour, would set about moving it from its position. 

"I may go further and fare worse, " he said to himself; "so here shallall the handkerchiefs lie, to afford a proof that I have been here. "

He packed them into a small compass, and then stooped to roll aside theheavy stone, when, at the moment, before he could apply his strength tothat purpose, he heard some one, in his immediate neighbourhood, say, --"Hist!"

This was so sudden, and so utterly unexpected, that he not only ceasedhis exertions to move the stone, but he nearly fell down in hissurprise. 

"Hist--hist!" said the voice again. 

"What--what, " gasped Tom Eccles--"what are you?"--"Hush--hush--hush!"

The perspiration broke out upon his brow, and he leaned against the wallfor support, as he managed to say, faintly, --

"Well, hush--what then?"--"Hist!"

"Well, I hear you. Where are you?"

"Here at hand. Who are you?"

"Tom Eccles. Who are you?"--"A friend. Have you seen anything?"

"No; I wish I could. I should like to see you if I could. "--"I'mcoming. "

There was a slow and cautious footstep, and Marchdale advanced to whereTom Eccles was standing. 

"Come, now, " said the latter, when he saw the dusky-looking formstalking towards him; "till I know you better, I'll be obliged to you tokeep off. I am well armed. Keep your distance, be you friend or foe. "

"Armed!" exclaimed Marchdale, and he at once paused. --"Yes, I am. "

"But I am a friend. I have no sort of objection frankly to telly you myerrand. I am a friend of the Bannerworth family, and have kept watchhere now for two nights, in the hopes of meeting with Varney, thevampyre. "

"The deuce you have: and pray what may your name be?"--"Marchdale. "

"If you be Mr. Marchdale, I know you by sight: for I have seen you withMr. Henry Bannerworth several times. Come out from among the shadows, and let us have a look at you; but, till you do, don't come within arm'slength of me. I am not naturally suspicious; but we cannot be toocareful. "

"Oh! certainly--certainly. The silver edge of the moon is now justpeeping up from the east, and you will be able to see me well, if youstep from the shadow of the wall by which you now are. "

This was a reasonable enough proposition, and Tom Eccles at once accededto it, by stepping out boldly into the partial moonlight, which nowbegan to fall upon the open meadows, tinting the grass with a silveryrefulgence, and rendering even minute objects visible. The moment he sawMarchdale he knew him, and, advancing frankly to him, he said, --

"I know you, sir, well. "

"And what brings you here?"--"A wager for one thing, and a wish to seethe vampyre for another. "

"Indeed!"--"Yes; I must own I have such a wish, along with a stillstronger one, to capture him, if possible; and, as there are now two ofus, why may we not do it?"

"As for capturing him, " said Marchdale, "I should prefer shootinghim. "--"You would?"

"I would, indeed. I have seen him once shot down, and he is now, I haveno doubt, as well as ever. What were you doing with that huge stone Isaw you bending over?"--"I have some handkerchiefs to hide here, as aproof that I have to-night really been to this place. "

"Oh, I will show you a better spot, where there is a crevice in whichyou can place them with perfect safety. Will you walk with me into theruins?"--"Willingly. "

"It's odd enough, " remarked Marchdale, after he had shown Tom Eccleswhere to hide the handkerchiefs, "that you and I should both be hereupon so similar an errand. "--"I'm very glad of it. It robs the place ofits gloom, and makes it ten times more endurable than it otherwise wouldbe. What do you propose to do if you see the vampyre?"

"I shall try a pistol bullet on him. You say you are armed?"--"Yes. "

"With pistols?"--"One. Here it is. "

"A huge weapon; loaded well, of course?"--"Oh, yes, I can depend uponit; but I did not intend to use it, unless assailed. "

"'Tis well. What is that?"--"What--what?"

"Don't you see anything there? Come farther back. Look--look. At thecorner of that wall there I am certain there is the flutter of a humangarment. "--"There is--there is. "

"Hush! Keep close. It must be the vampyre. "--"Give me my pistol. Whatare you doing with it?"

"Only ramming down the charge more firmly for you. Take it. If that beVarney the vampyre, I shall challenge him to surrender the moment heappears; and if he does not, I will fire upon him, and do you do solikewise. "--"Well, I--I don't know. "

"You have scruples?"--"I certainly have. "

"Well, well--don't you fire, then, but leave it to me. There;look--look. Now have you any doubt? There he goes; in his cloak. Itis--it is----"--"Varney, by Heavens!" cried Tom Eccles. 

[Illustration]

"Surrender!" shouted Marchdale. 

At the instant Sir Francis Varney sprang forward, and made off at arapid pace across the meadows. 

"Fire after him--fire!" cried Marchdale, "or he will escape. My pistolhas missed fire. He will be off. "

On the impulse of the moment, and thus urged by the voice and thegesture of his companion, Tom Eccles took aim as well as he could, andfired after the retreating form of Sir Francis Varney. His consciencesmote him as he heard the report and saw the flash of the large pistolamid the half sort of darkness that was still around. 

The effect of the shot was then to him painfully apparent. He saw Varneystop instantly; then make a vain attempt to stagger forward a little, and finally fall heavily to the earth, with all the appearance of onekilled upon the spot. 

"You have hit him, " said Marchdale--"you have hit him. Bravo!"--"Ihave--hit him. "

"Yes, a capital shot, by Jove!"--"I am very sorry. "

"Sorry! sorry for ridding the world of such a being! What was in yourpistol?"--"A couple of slugs. "

"Well, they have made a lodgment in him, that's quite clear. Let's go upand finish him at once. "--"He seems finished. "

"I beg your pardon there. When the moonbeams fall upon him he'll get upand walk away as if nothing was the matter. "--"Will he?" cried Tom, withanimation--"will he?"

"Certainly he will. "--"Thank God for that. Now, hark you, Mr. Marchdale:I should not have fired if you had not at the moment urged me to do so. Now, I shall stay and see if the effect which you talk of will ensue;and although it may convince me that he is a vampyre, and that there aresuch things, he may go off, scot free, for me. "

"Go off?"--"Yes; I don't want to have even a vampyre's blood upon myhands. "

"You are exceedingly delicate. "--"Perhaps I am; it's my way, though. Ihave shot him--not you, mind; so, in a manner of speaking, he belongs tome. Now, mark, me: I won't have him touched any more to-night, unlessyou think there's a chance of making a prisoner of him withoutviolence. "

"There he lies; you can go and make a prisoner of him at once, dead ashe is; and if you take him out of the moonlight--"

"I understand; he won't recover. "--"Certainly not. "

"But, as I want him to recover, that don't suit me. "--"Well, I cannotbut honour your scruples, although I do not actually share in them; butI promise you that, since such is your wish, I will take no stepsagainst the vampyre; but let us come up to him and see if he be reallydead, or only badly wounded. "

Tom Eccles hang back a little from this proposal; but, upon being urgedagain by Marchdale, and told that he need not go closer than he chose, he consented, and the two of them approached the prostrate form of SirFrancis Varney, which lay upon its face in the faint moonlight, whicheach moment was gathering strength and power. 

"He lies upon his face, " said Marchdale. "Will you go and turn himover?"--"Who--I? God forbid I should touch him. "

"Well--well, I will. Come on. "

They halted within a couple of yards of the body. Tom Eccles would notgo a step farther; so Marchdale advanced alone, and pretended to be, with great repugnance, examining for the wound. 

"He is quite dead, " he said; "but I cannot see the hurt. "--"I think heturned his head as I fired. "

"Did he? Let us see. "

Marchdale lifted up the head, and disclosed such a mass ofclotted-looking blood, that Tom Eccles at once took to his heels, norstopped until he was nearly as far off as the ruins. Marchdale followedhim more slowly, and when he came up to him, he said, --

"The slugs have taken effect on his face. "--"I know it--I know it. Don'ttell me. "

"He looks horrible. "--"And I am a murderer. "

"Psha! You look upon this matter too seriously. Think of who and what hewas, and then you will soon acquit yourself of being open to any suchcharge. "--"I am bewildered, Mr. Marchdale, and cannot now know whetherhe be a vampyre or not. If he be not, I have murdered, mostunjustifiably, a fellow-creature. "

"Well, but if he be?"--"Why, even then I do not know but that I ought toconsider myself as guilty. He is one of God's creatures if he were tentimes a vampyre. "

"Well, you really do take a serious view of the affair. "--"Not moreserious than it deserves. "

"And what do you mean to do?"--"I shall remain here to await the resultof what you tell me will ensue, if he be a real vampire. Even now themoonbeams are full upon him, and each moment increasing in intensity. Think you he will recover?"

"I do indeed. "--"Then here will I wait. "

"Since that is you resolve, I will keep you company. We shall easilyfind some old stone in the ruins which will serve us for a seat, andthere at leisure we can keep our eyes upon the dead body, and be able toobserve if it make the least movement. "

This plan was adopted, and they sat down just within the ruins, but insuch a place that they had a full view of the dead body, as it appearedto be, of Sir Francis Varney, upon which the sweet moonbeams shone fulland clear. 

Tom Eccles related how he was incited to come upon his expedition, buthe might have spared himself that trouble, as Marchdale had been in aretired corner of the inn parlour before he came to his appointment withVarney, and heard the business for the most part proposed. 

Half-an-hour, certainly not more, might have elapsed; when suddenly TomEccles uttered an exclamation, partly of surprise and partly ofterror, --

"He moves; he moves!" he cried. "Look at the vampyre's body. "

Marchdale affected to look with an all-absorbing interest, and there wasSir Francis Varney, raising slowly one arm with the hand outstretchedtowards the moon, as if invoking that luminary to shed more of its beamsupon him. Then the body moved slowly, like some one writhing in pain, and yet unable to move from the spot on which it lay. From the head tothe foot, the whole frame seemed to be convulsed, and now and then asthe ghastly object seemed to be gathering more strength, the limbs werethrown out with a rapid and a frightful looking violence. 

It was truly to one, who might look upon it as a reality and no juggle, a frightful sight to see, and although Marchdale, of course, tolerablywell preserved his equanimity, only now and then, for appearance sake, affecting to be wonderfully shocked, poor Tom Eccles was in such a stateof horror and fright that he could not, if he would, have flown from thespot, so fascinated was he by the horrible spectacle. 

This was a state of things which continued for many minutes, and thenthe body showed evident symptoms of so much returning animation, that itwas about to rise from his gory bed and mingle once again with theliving. 

"Behold!" said Marchdale--"behold!"--"Heaven have mercy upon us!"

"It is as I said; the beams of the moon have revived the vampyre. Youperceive now that there can be no doubt. "--"Yes, yes, I see him; I seehim. "

Sir Francis Varney now, as if with a great struggle, rose to his feet, and looked up at the bright moon for some moments with such an air andmanner that it would not have required any very great amount ofimagination to conceive that he was returning to it some sort ofthanksgiving for the good that it had done to him. 

He then seemed for some moments in a state of considerable indecision asto which way he should proceed. He turned round several times. Then headvanced a step or two towards the house, but apparently his resolutionchanged again, and casting his eyes upon the ruins, he at once madetowards them. 

This was too much for the philosophy as well as for the courage of TomEccles. It was all very well to look on at some distance, and observethe wonderful and inexplicable proceedings of the vampyre; but when heshowed symptoms of making a nearer acquaintance, it was not to be borne. 

"Why, he's coming here, " said Tom. --"He seems so indeed, " remarkedMarchdale. 

"Do you mean to stay?"--"I think I shall. "

"You do, do you?"--"Yes, I should much like to question him, and as weare two to one I think we really can have nothing to fear. "

"Do you? I'm altogether of a different opinion. A man who has more livesthan a cat don't much mind at what odds he fights. You may stay if youlike. "--"You do not mean to say that you will desert me?"

"I don't see a bit how you call it deserting you; if we had come outtogether on this adventure, I would have stayed it out with you; but aswe came separate and independent, we may as well go back so. "--"Well, but--"

"Good morning?" cried Tom, and he at once took to his heels towards thetown, without staying to pay any attention to the remonstrances ofMarchdale, who called after him in vain. 

Sir Francis Varney, probably, had Tom Eccles not gone off so rapidly, would have yet taken another thought, and gone in another direction thanthat which led him to the ruins, and Tom, if he had had his senses fullyabout him, as well as all his powers of perception, would have seen thatthe progress of the vampyre was very slow, while he continued toconverse with Marchdale, and that it was only when he went off at goodspeed that Sir Francis Varney likewise thought it prudent to do so. 

"Is he much terrified?" said Varney, as he came up to Marchdale. --"Yes, most completely. "

"This then, will make a good story in the town. "--"It will, indeed, andnot a little enhance your reputation. "

"Well, well; it don't much matter now; but if by terrifying people I canpurchase for myself anything like immunity for the past, I shall besatisfied. "--"I think you may now safely reckon that you have done so. This man who has fled with so much precipitation, had courage. "

"Unquestionably. "--"Or else he would have shrunk from coming here atall. "

"True, but his courage and presence arose from his strong doubts as tothe existence of such beings as vampyres. "--"Yes, and now that he isconvinced, his bravery has evaporated along with his doubts; and such atale as he has now to tell, will be found sufficient to convert even themost sceptical in the town. "

"I hope so. "--"And yet it cannot much avail you. "

"Not personally, but I must confess that I am not dead to all humanopinions, and I feel some desire of revenge against those dastards whoby hundreds have hunted me, burnt down my mansion, and sought mydestruction. "--"That I do not wonder at. "

"I would fain leave among them a legacy of fear. Such fear as shallhaunt them and their children for years to come. I would wish that thename of Varney, the vampire, should be a sound of terror forgenerations. "--"It will be so. "

"It shall. "--"And now, then, for a consideration of what is to be donewith our prisoner. What is your resolve upon that point?"

"I have considered it while I was lying upon yon green sward waiting forthe friendly moonbeams to fall upon my face, and it seems to me thatthere is no sort of resource but to----"--"Kill him?"

"No, no. "--"What then?"

"To set him free. "--"Nay, have you considered the immense hazard ofdoing so? Think again; I pray you think again. I am decidedly of opinionthat he more than suspects who are his enemies; and, in that case, youknow what consequences would ensue; besides, have we not enough alreadyto encounter? Why should we add another young, bold, determined spiritto the band which is already arrayed against us?"

"You talk in vain, Marchdale; I know to what it all tends; you have astrong desire for the death of this young man. "--"No; there you wrongme. I have no desire for his death, for its own sake; but, where greatinterests are at stake, there must be sacrifices made. "

"So there must; therefore, I will make a sacrifice, and let this youngprisoner free from his dungeon. "--"If such be your determination, I knowwell it is useless to combat with it. When do you purpose giving him hisfreedom?"

"I will not act so heedlessly as that your principles of caution shallblame me. I will attempt to get from him some promise that he will notmake himself an active instrument against me. Perchance, too, asBannerworth Hall, which he is sure to visit, wears such an air ofdesertion, I may be able to persuade him that the Bannerworth family, aswell as his uncle, have left this part of the country altogether; sothat, without making any inquiry for them about the neighbourhood, hemay be induced to leave at once. "--"That would be well. "

"Good; your prudence approves of the plan, and therefore it shall bedone. "--"I am rather inclined to think, " said Marchdale, with a slighttone of sarcasm, "that if my prudence did not approve of the plan, itwould still be done. "

"Most probably, " said Varney, calmly. --"Will you release him to-night?"

"It is morning, now, and soon the soft grey light of day will tint theeast. I do not think I will release him till sunset again now. Has heprovision to last him until then?"--"He has. "

"Well, then, two hours after sunset I will come here and release himfrom his weary bondage, and now I must go to find some place in which tohide my proscribed head. As for Bannerworth Hall, I will yet have it inmy power; I have sworn to do so, I will keep my oath. "--"Theaccomplishment of our purpose, I regret to say, seems as far off asever. "

"Not so--not so. As I before remarked, we must disappear, for a time, soas to lull suspicion. There will then arise a period when BannerworthHall will neither be watched, as it is now, nor will it be inhabited, --aperiod before the Bannerworth family has made up its mind to go back toit, and when long watching without a result has become too tiresome tobe continued at all; then we can at once pursue our object. "--"Be itso. "

"And now, Marchdale, I want more money. "--"More money!"

"Yes; you know well that I have had large demands of late. "--"But Icertainly had an impression that you were possessed, by the death ofsome one, with very ample means. "

"Yes, but there is a means by which all is taken from me. I have no realresources but what are rapidly used up, so I must come upon youagain. "--"I have already completely crippled myself as regards moneymatters in this enterprise, and I do certainly hope that the fruits willnot be far distant. If they be much longer delayed, I shall really notknow what to do. However, come to the lodge where you have been staying, and then I will give you, to the extent of my ability, whatever sum youthink your present exigencies require. "

"Come on, then, at once. I would certainly, of course, rather leave thisplace now, before daybreak. Come on, I say, come on. "

Sir Francis Varney and Marchdale walked for some time in silence acrossthe meadows. It was evident that there was not between these associatesthe very best of feelings. Marchdale was always smarting under anassumption of authority over him, on the part of Sir Francis Varney, while the latter scarcely cared to conceal any portion of the contemptwith which he regarded his hypocritical companion. 

Some very strong band of union, indeed, must surely bind these twostrange persons together! It must be something of a more than commonnature which induces Marchdale not only to obey the behests of hismysterious companion, but to supply him so readily with money as weperceive he promises to do. 

And, as regards Varney, the vampyre, be, too, must have some greatobject in view to induce him to run such a world of risk, and take somuch trouble as he was doing with the Bannerworth family. 

What his object is, and what is the object of Marchdale, will, now thatwe have progressed so far in our story, soon appear, and then much thatis perfectly inexplicable, will become clear and distinct, and we shallfind that some strong human motives are at the bottom of it all. 

CHAPTER LXV. 

VARNEY'S VISIT TO THE DUNGEON OF THE LONELY PRISONER IN THE RUINS. 

[Illustration]

Evident it was that Marchdale was not near so scrupulous as Sir FrancisVarney, in what he chose to do. He would, without hesitation, havesacrificed the life of that prisoner in the lonely dungeon, whom itwould be an insult to the understanding of our readers, not to presumethat they had, long ere this, established in their minds to be CharlesHolland. 

His own safety seemed to be the paramount consideration with Marchdale, and it was evident that he cared for nothing in comparison with thatobject. 

It says much, however, for Sir Francis Varney, that he did not give into such a blood-thirsty feeling, but rather chose to set the prisonerfree, and run all the chances of the danger to which he might exposehimself by such a course of conduct, than to insure safety, comparatively, by his destruction. 

Sir Francis Varney is evidently a character of strangely mixed feelings. It is quite evident that he has some great object in view, which hewishes to accomplish almost at any risk; but it is equally evident, atthe same time, that he wishes to do so with the least possible injury toothers, or else he would never have behaved as he had done in hisinterview with the beautiful and persecuted Flora Bannerworth, or nowsuggested the idea of setting Charles Holland free from the drearydungeon in which he had been so long confined. 

We are always anxious and willing to give every one credit for the goodthat is in them; and, hence, we are pleased to find that Sir FrancisVarney, despite his singular, and apparently preternatural capabilities, has something sufficiently human about his mind and feelings, to inducehim to do as little injury as possible to others in the pursuit of hisown objects. 

Of the two, vampyre as he is, we prefer him much to the despicable andhypocritical, Marchdale, who, under the pretence of being the friend ofthe Bannerworth family, would freely have inflicted upon them the mostdeadly injuries. 

It was quite clear that he was most dreadfully disappointed that SirFrancis Varney, would not permit him to take the life of CharlesHolland, and it was with a gloomy and dissatisfied air that he left theruins to proceed towards the town, after what we may almost term thealtercation he had had with Varney the vampyre upon that subject. 

It must not be supposed that Sir Francis Varney, however, was blind tothe danger which must inevitably accrue from permitting Charles Hollandonce more to obtain his liberty. 

What the latter would be able to state would be more than sufficient toconvince the Bannerworths, and all interested in their fortunes, thatsomething was going on of a character, which, however, supernatural itmight seem to be, still seemed to have some human and ordinary objectsfor its ends. 

Sir Francis Varney thought over all this before he proceeded, accordingto his promise, to the dungeon of the prisoner; but it would seem as ifthere was considerable difficulty, even to an individual of his longpractice in all kinds of chicanery and deceit, in arriving at anysatisfactory conclusion, as to a means of making Charles Holland'srelease a matter of less danger to himself, than it would be likely tobe, if, unfettered by obligation, he was at once set free. 

At the solemn hour of midnight, while all was still, that is, to say, onthe night succeeding the one, on which he had had the interview withMarchdale, we have recorded, Sir Francis Varney alone sought the silentruins. He was attired, as usual, in his huge cloak, and, indeed, thechilly air of the evening warranted such protection against its numerousdiscomforts. 

Had any one seen him, however, that evening, they would have observed anair of great doubt, and irresolution upon his brow, as if he werestruggling with some impulses which he found it extremely difficult torestrain. 

"I know well, " he muttered, as he walked among the shadow of the ruins, "that Marchdale's reasoning is coldly and horribly correct, when he saysthat there is danger in setting this youth free; but, I am about toleave this place, and not to show myself for some time, and I cannotreconcile myself to inflicting upon him the horror of a death bystarvation, which must ensue. "

It was a night of more than usual dullness, and, as Sir Francis Varneyremoved the massy stone, which hid the narrow and tortuous entrance tothe dungeons, a chilly feeling crept over him, and he could not helpsupposing, that even then Marchdale might have played him false, andneglected to supply the prisoner food, according to his promise. 

Hastily he descended to the dungeons, and with a step, which had in itfar less of caution, than had usually characterised his proceedings, heproceeded onwards until he reached that particular dungeon, in which ouryoung friend, to whom we wished so well, had been so long confined fromthe beautiful and cheering light of day, and from all that his heart'sbest affections most cling to. 

"Speak, " said Sir Francis Varney, as he entered the dungeon--"If theoccupant of this dreary place live, let him answer one who is as muchhis friend as he has been his enemy. "

"I have no friend, " said Charles Holland, faintly; "unless it be one whowould come and restore me to liberty. "

"And how know you that I am not he?"

"Your voice sounds like that of one of my persecutors. Why do you notplace the climax to your injuries by at once taking away life. I shouldbe better pleased that you would do so, than that I should wear out theuseless struggle of existence in so dreary and wretched an abode asthis. "

"Young man, " said Sir Francis Varney, "I have come to you on a greatererrand of mercy than, probably, you will ever give me credit for. Thereis one who would too readily have granted your present request, and whowould at once have taken that life of which you profess to be sowearied; but which may yet present to you some of its sunniest and mostbeautiful aspects. "

"Your tones are friendly, " said Charles; "but yet I dread some newdeception. That you are one of those who consigned me by stratagem, andby brute force, to this place of durance, I am perfectly well assured, and, therefore, any good that may be promised by you, presents itself tome in a very doubtful character. "

"I cannot be surprised, " said Sir Francis Varney, "at such sentimentsarising from your lips; but, nevertheless, I am inclined to save you. You have been detained here because it was supposed by being so, aparticular object would be best obtained by your absence. That object, however has failed, notwithstanding, and I do not feel further inclinedto protract your sufferings. Have you any guess as to the parties whohave thus confined you?"--"I am unaccustomed to dissemble, and, therefore I will say at once that I have a guess. "

"In which way does it tend?"--

"Against Sir Francis Varney, called the vampyre. "

"Does it not strike you that this may be a dangerous candour?"--"It may, or it may not be; I cannot help it. I know I am at the mercy of my foes, and I do not believe that anything I can say or do will make mysituation worse or better. "

"You are much mistaken there. In other hands than mine, it might make itmuch worse; but it happens to be one of my weaknesses, that I am chargedwith candour, and that I admire boldness of disposition. "--"Indeed! andyet can behave in the manner you have done towards me. "

"Yes. There are more things in heaven and on earth than are dreamt of inyour philosophy. I am the more encouraged to set you free, because, if Iprocure from you a promise, which I intend to attempt, I am inclined tobelieve that you will keep it. "--"I shall assuredly keep whateverpromise I may make. Propound your conditions, and if they be such ashonour and honesty will permit me to accede to, I will do so willinglyand at once. Heaven knows I am weary enough of this miserableimprisonment. "

"Will you promise me then, if I set you free, not to mention yoursuspicions that it is to Sir Francis Varney you owe this ill turn, andnot to attempt any act of vengeance against him as a retaliation forit. "--"I cannot promise so much as that. Freedom, indeed, would be apoor boon, if I were not permitted freely to converse of some of thecircumstances connected with my captivity. "

"You object?"--"I do to the former of your propositions, but not to thelatter. I will promise not to go at all out of my way to execute anyvengeance upon you; but I will not promise that I will not communicatethe circumstances of my forced absence from them, to those friends whoseopinion I so much value, and to return to whom is almost as dear to meas liberty itself. "

Sir Francis Varney was silent for a few moments, and then he said, in atone of deep solemnity, --

"There are ninety-nine persons out of a hundred who would take your lifefor the independence of your tongue; but I am as the hundredth one, wholooks with a benevolent eye at your proceedings. Will you promise me, ifI remove the fetters which now bind your limbs, that you will make nopersonal attack upon me; for I am weary of personal contention, and Ihave no disposition to endure it. Will you make me this promise?"--"Ipromise?"--"I will. "

Without another word, but trusting implicitly to the promise which hadbeen given to him, Sir Francis Varney produced a small key from hispocket, and unlocked with it a padlock which confined the chains aboutthe prisoner. 

With ease, Charles Holland was then enabled to shake them off, and then, for the first time, for some weeks, he rose to his feet, and felt allthe exquisite relief of being comparatively free from bondage. 

"This is delightful, indeed, " he said. 

"It is, " said Sir Francis Varney--"it is but a foretaste of thehappiness you will enjoy when you are entirely free. You see that I havetrusted you. "

"You have trusted me as you might trust me, and you perceive that I havekept my word. "

"You have; and since you decline to make me the promise which I wouldfain have from you, to the effect that you would not mention me as oneof the authors of your calamity, I must trust to your honour not toattempt revenge for what you have suffered. "

"That I will promise. There can be but little difficulty to any generousmind in giving up such a feeling. In consequence of your sparing me whatyou might still further have inflicted, I will let the past rest, and asif it had never happened really to me; and speak of it to others, but asa circumstance which I wish not to revert to, but prefer should beburied in oblivion. "

"It is well; and now I have a request to make of you, which, perhaps, you will consider the hardest of all. "

"Name it. I feel myself bound to a considerable extent to comply withwhatever you may demand of me, that is not contrary to honourableprinciple. "

"Then it is this, that, comparatively free as you are, and in acondition, as you are, to assert your own freedom, you will not do sohastily, or for a considerable period; in fact, I wish and expect thatyou should wait yet awhile, until it shall suit me to say that it is mypleasure that you shall be free. "

"That is, indeed, a hard condition to man who feels, as you yourselfremark, that he can assert his freedom. It is one which I have still ahope you will not persevere in. 

"Nay, young man, I think that I have treated you with generosity, tomake you feel that I am not the worst of foes you could have had. All Irequire of you is, that you should wait here for about an hour. It isnow nearly one o'clock; will you wait until you hear it strike twobefore you actually make a movement to leave this place?"

Charles Holland hesitated for some moments, and then he said, --

"Do not fancy that I am not one who appreciates the singular trust youhave reposed in me; and, however repugnant to me it may be to remainhere, a voluntary prisoner, I am inclined to do so, if it be but toconvince you that the trust you have reposed in me is not in vain, andthat I can behave with equal generosity to you as you can to me. "

"Be it so, " said Sir Francis Varney; "I shall leave you with a fullreliance that you will keep your word; and now, farewell. When you thinkof me, fancy me rather one unfortunate than criminal, and tell yourselfthat even Varney the vampyre had some traits in his character, which, although they might not raise your esteem, at all events did not loudlycall for your reprobation. "

"I shall do so. Oh! Flora, Flora, I shall look upon you once again, after believing and thinking that I had bidden you a long and lastadieu. My own beautiful Flora, it is joy indeed to think that I shalllook upon that face again, which, to my perception, is full of all themajesty of loveliness. "

Sir Francis Varney looked coldly on while Charles uttered thisenthusiastic speech. 

"Remember, " he said, "till two o'clock;" and he walked towards the doorof the dungeon. "You will have no difficulty in finding your way outfrom this place. Doubtless you already perceive the entrance by which Igained admission. "

"Had I been free, " said Charles, "and had the use of my limbs, I should, long ere this, have worked my way to life and liberty. "

"'Tis well. Goodnight. "

Varney walked from the place, and just closed the door behind him. Witha slow and stately step he left the ruins, and Charles Holland foundhimself once more alone, but in a much more enviable condition than formany weeks he could have called his. 

CHAPTER LXVI. 

FLORA BANNERWORTH'S APPARENT INCONSISTENCY. --THE ADMIRAL'S CIRCUMSTANCESAND ADVICE. --MR. CHILLINGWORTH'S MYSTERIOUS ABSENCE. 

[Illustration]

For a brief space let us return to Flora Bannerworth, who had sufferedso much on account of her affections, as well as on account of themysterious attack that had been made upon her by the reputed vampyre. 

After leaving Bannerworth Hall for a short time, she seemed to recoverher spirits; but this was a state of things which did not last, and onlyshowed how fallacious it was to expect that, after the grievous thingsthat had happened, she would rapidly recover her equanimity. 

It is said, by learned physiologists, that two bodily pains cannotendure at the same space of time in the system; and, whether it be so ornot, is a question concerning which it would be foreign to the nature ofour work, to enter into anything like an elaborate disquisition. 

Certainly, however, so far as Flora Bannerworth was concerned, sheseemed inclined to show that, mentally, the observation was a true one, for that, now she became released from a continued dread of the visitsof the vampyre, her mind would, with more painful interest than ever, recur to the melancholy condition, probably, of Charles Holland, if hewere alive, and to soul-harrowing reflections concerning him, if he weredead. 

She could not, and she did not, believe, for one moment, that hisdesertion of her had been of a voluntary character. She knew, or fanciedshe knew, him by far too well for that; and she more than once expressedher opinion, to the effect that she was perfectly convinced hisdisappearance was a part and parcel of all that train of circumstanceswhich had so recently occurred, and produced such a world of unhappinessto her, as well as to the whole of the Bannerworth family. 

"If he had never loved me, " she said to her brother Henry, "he wouldhave been alive and well; but he has fallen a victim to the truth of apassion, and to the constancy of an affection which, to my dying day, Iwill believe in. "

Now that Mr. Marchdale had left the place there was no one to disputethis proposition with Flora, for all, as well as she, were fullyinclined to think well of Charles Holland. 

It was on the very morning which preceded that evening when Sir FrancisVarney called upon Charles Holland in the manner we have related, withthe gratifying news that, upon certain conditions, he might be released, that Flora Bannerworth, when the admiral came to see them, spoke to himof Charles Holland, saying, --

"Now, sir, that I am away from Bannerworth Hall, I do not, and cannotfeel satisfied; for the thought that Charles may eventually come back, and seek us there, still haunts me. Fancy him, sir, doing so, and seeingthe place completely deserted. "

"Well, there's something in that, " said the admiral; "but, however, he'shardly such a goose, if it were so to happen, to give up the chase--he'dfind us out somehow. "

"You think he would, sir? or, do you not think that despair would seizeupon him, and that, fancying we had all left the spot for ever, he mightlikewise do so; so that we should lose him more effectually than we havedone at present?"

"No; hardly, " said the admiral; "he couldn't be such a goose as that. Why, when I was of his age, if I had secured the affections of a younggirl like you, I'd have gone over all the world, but I'd have found outwhere she was; and what I mean to say is, if he's half such a goose asyou think him, he deserves to lose you. "

"Did you not tell me something, sir, of Mr. Chillingworth talking oftaking possession of the Hall for a brief space of time?"

"Why, yes, I did; and I expect he is there now; in fact, I'm sure he'sthere, for he said he would be. "

"No, he ain't, " said Jack Pringle, at that moment entering the room;"you're wrong again, as you always are, somehow or other. "

"What, you vagabond, are you here, you mutinous rascal?"--"Ay, ay, sir;go on; don't mind me. I wonder what you'd do, sir, if you hadn'tsomebody like me to go on talking about"

"Why, you infernal rascal, I wonder what you'd do if you had not anindulgent commander, who puts up even with real mutiny, and says nothingabout it. But where have you been? Did you go as I directed you, andtake some provisions to Bannerworth Hall?"

"Yes, I did; but I brought them back again; there's nobody there, anddon't seem likely to be, except a dead body. "

"A dead body! Whose body can that be!"--"Tom somebody; for I'm d----d ifit ain't a great he cat. "

"You scoundrel, how dare you alarm me in such a way? But do you mean totell me that you did not see Dr. Chillingworth at the Hall?"--"How couldI see him, if he wasn't there?"

"But he was there; he said he would be there. "--"Then he's gone again, for there's nobody there that I know of in the shape of a doctor. I wentthrough every part of the ship--I mean the house--and the deuce a soulcould I find; so as it was rather lonely and uncomfortable, I came awayagain. 'Who knows, ' thought I, 'but some blessed vampyre or another maycome across me. '"

"This won't do, " said the old admiral, buttoning up his coat to thechin; "Bannerworth Hall must not be deserted in this way. It is quiteclear that Sir Francis Varney and his associates have some particularobject in view in getting possession of the place. Here, youJack. "--"Ay, ay, sir. "

[Illustration]

"Just go back again, and stay at the Hall till somebody comes to you. Even such a stupid hound as you will be something to scare awayunwelcome visitors. Go back to the Hall, I say. What are you staringat?"--"Back to Bannerworth Hall!" said Jack. "What! just where I've comefrom; all that way off, and nothing to eat, and, what's worse, nothingto drink. I'll see you d----d first. "

The admiral caught up a table-fork, and made a rush at Jack; but HenryBannerworth interfered. 

"No, no, " he said, "admiral; no, no--not that. You must recollect thatyou yourself have given this, no doubt, faithful fellow of your'sliberty to do and say a great many things which don't look like goodservice; but I have no doubt, from what I have seen of his disposition, that he would risk his life rather than, that you should come to anyharm. "

"Ay, ay, " said Jack; "he quite forgets when the bullets were scuttlingour nobs off Cape Ushant, when that big Frenchman had hold of him by the_skirf_ of his neck, and began pummelling his head, and the lee scupperswere running with blood, and a bit of Joe Wiggins's brains had come slapin my eye, while some of Jack Marling's guts was hanging round my necklike a nosegay, all in consequence of grape-shot--then he didn't say asI was a swab, when I came up, and bored a hole in the Frenchman's backwith a pike. Ay, it's all very well now, when there's peace, and nodanger, to call Jack Pringle a lubberly rascal, and mutinous. I'mblessed if it ain't enough to make an old pair of shoes faint away. "

"Why, you infernal scoundrel, " said the admiral, "nothing of the sortever happened, and you know it. Jack, you're no seaman. "--"Werry good, "said Jack; "then, if I ain't no seaman, you are what shore-going peoplecalls a jolly fat old humbug. "

"Jack, hold your tongue, " said Henry Bannerworth; "you carry thesethings too far. You know very well that your master esteems you, and youshould not presume too much upon that fact. "--"My master!" said Jack;"don't call him my master. I never had a master, and don't intend. He'smy admiral, if you like; but an English sailor don't like a master. "

"I tell you what it is, Jack, " said the admiral; "you've got your goodqualities, I admit. "--"Ay, ay, sir--that's enough; you may as well leaveoff well while you can. "

"But I'll just tell you what you resemble more than anythingelse. "--"Chew me up! what may that be, sir?"

"A French marine. "--"A what! A French marine! Good-bye. I wouldn't sayanother word to you, if you was to pay me a dollar a piece. Of all theblessed insults rolled into one, this here's the worstest. You mighthave called me a marine, or you might have called me a Frenchman, but tomake out that I'm both a marine and a Frenchman, d--me, if it isn'tenough to make human nature stand on an end! Now, I've done with you. "

"And a good job, too, " said the admiral. "I wish I'd thought of itbefore. You're worse than a third day's ague, or a hot and a cold feverin the tropics. "--"Very good, " said Jack; "I only hope Providence willhave mercy upon you, and keep an eye upon you when I'm gone, otherwise, I wonder what will become of you? It wasn't so when young Belinda, whoyou took off the island of Antiggy, in the Ingies, jumped overboard, andI went after her in a heavy swell. Howsomdever, never mind, you shookhands with me then; and while a bushel of the briny was weeping out ofthe corner of each of your blinkers, you says, says you, --"

"Hold!" cried the admiral, "hold! I know what I said, Jack. It's cut afathom deep in my memory. Give us your fist, Jack, and--and--"--"Holdyourself, " said Jack; "I know what you're going to say, and I won't hearyou say it--so there's an end of it. Lor bless you! I knows you. I ain'ta going to leave you. Don't be afraid; I only works you up, and worksyou down again, just to see if there's any of that old spirit in youwhen we was aboard the Victory. Don't you recollect, admiral?"

"Yes--yes; enough, Jack. "--"Why, let me see--that was a matter of fortyyears ago, nearly, when I was a youngster. "

"There--there, Jack--that'll do. You bring the events of other yearsfresh upon my memory. Peace--peace. I have not forgotten; but still, tohear what you know of them, if recited, would give the old man apang. "--"A pang, " said Jack; "I suppose that's some dictionary word fora punch in the eye. That would be mutiny with a vengeance; so I'm off. "

"Go, go. "--"I'm a going; and just to please you, I'll go to the Hall, soyou sha'n't say that you told me to do anything that I didn't. "

Away went Jack, whistling an air, that might have been popular when heand the admiral were young, and Henry Bannerworth could not but remarkthat an appearance of great sadness came over the old man, when Jack wasgone. 

"I fear, sir, " he said, "that heedless sailor has touched upon someepisode in your existence, the wounds of which are still fresh enough togive you pain. "--"It is so, " said the old admiral; "just look at me, now. Do I look like the here of a romantic love story?"

"Not exactly, I admit. "--"Well, notwithstanding that, Jack Pringle hastouched a chord that vibrates in my heart yet, " replied the admiral. 

"Have you any objection to tell me of it?"--"None, whatever; andperhaps, by the time I have done, the doctor may have found his way backagain, or Jack may bring us some news of him. So here goes for a short, but a true yarn. "

CHAPTER LXVII. 

THE ADMIRAL'S STORY OF THE BEAUTIFUL BELINDA. 

[Illustration]

Just at this moment Flora Bannerworth stole into the room from whenceshe had departed a short time since; but when she saw that old AdmiralBell was looking so exceedingly serious, and apparently about to addressHenry upon some very important subject, she would have retired, but heturned towards her, and said, --

"My story, my dear, I've no objection to your hearing, and, like allwomen folks, a love story never comes amiss to you; so you may as wellstay and hear it. "--"A love story, " said Flora; "you tell a love story, sir?"

"Yes, my dear, and not only tell it, but be the hero of it, likewise;ain't you astonished?"--"I am, indeed. "

"Well, you'll be more astonished then before I've done; so just listen. As Jack Pringle says, it was the matter of about somewhere forty yearsago, that I was in command of the Victory frigate, which was placed uponthe West Indian station, during a war then raging, for the protection ofour ports and harbours in that vicinity. We'd not a strong force in thatquarter, therefore, I had to cut about from place to place, and do thebest I could. After a time, though, I rather think that we frightenedoff the enemy, during which time I chiefly anchored off the island ofAntigua, and was hospitably received at the house of a planter, of thename of Marchant, who, in fact, made his house my home, and introducedme to all the _elite_ of the society of the island. Ah! Miss Flora, you've no idea, to look at me now, what I was then; I held a captain'scommission, and was nearly the youngest man in the service, with such arank. I was as slender, ay, as a dancing master. These withered andbleached locks were black as the raven's plume. Ay, ay, but no matter:the planter had a daughter. "

"And you loved her?" said Flora--"Loved her, " said the old man, and theflush of youthful animation come to his countenance; "loved her, do yousay! I adored her; I worshipped her; she was to me--but what a d----dold fool, I am; we'll skip that if you please. "

"Nay, nay, " said Flora; "that is what I want to hear. "--"I haven't theleast doubt of that, in the world; but that's just what you won't hear;none of your nonsense, Miss Flora; the old man may be a fool, but heisn't quite an idiot. "

"He's neither, " said Flora; "true feelings can never disgrace anyone. "--"Perhaps not; but, however, to make a long story short, somehowor other, one day, Belinda was sitting alone, and I rudely pounced uponher; I rather think then I must have said something that I oughtn't tohave said, for it took her so aback; I was forced, somehow or other, tohold her up, and then I--I--yes; I'm sure I kissed her; and so, I toldher I loved her; and then, what do you think she said?"

"Why, " said Flora, "that she reciprocated the passion. "--"D--n my rags, "said Jack, who at the moment came into the room, "I suppose that's thename of some shell or other. "

"You here, you villain!" said the admiral; "I thought you weregone. "--"So I was, " said Jack, "but I came back for my hat, you see. "

Away he went again, and the admiral resumed his story. 

"Well, Miss Flora, " he said, "you haven't made a good guess, as shedidn't say anything at all, she only clung to me like some wild bird toits mother's breast, and cried as if her heart would break. "--"Indeed!"

"Yes; I didn't know the cause of her emotion, but at last I got it outof her. "--"What was it?"

"Oh, a mere trifle; she was already married to somebody else, that'sall; some d----d fellow, who had gone trading about the islands, afellow she didn't care a straw about, that was old enough to be herfather. "

"And you left her?"--"No, I didn't. Guess again. I was a mad-headedyoungster. I only felt--I didn't think. I persuaded her to come awaywith me. I took her aboard my ship, and set sail with her. A few weeksflew like hours; but one day we were hailed by a vessel, and when weneared her, she manned a boat and brought a letter on board, addressedto Belinda. It was from her father, written in his last moments. Itbegan with a curse and ended with a blessing. There was a postscript inanother hand, to say the old man died of grief. She read it by my sideon the quarter-deck. It dropped from her grasp, and she plunged into thesea. Jack Pringle went after her; but I never saw her again. "

"Gracious Heavens! what a tragedy!"--"Yes, tolerable, " said the old man. 

He arose and took his hat and placed it on his head. He gave the crownof it a blow that sent it nearly over his eyes. He thrust his hands deepinto his breeches pockets, clenched his teeth, and muttered somethinginaudible as he strode from the apartment. 

"Who would have thought, Henry, " said Flora, "that such a man as AdmiralBell had been the hero of such an adventure?"--"Ay, who indeed; but itshows that we never can judge from appearances, Flora; and that thosewho seem to us the most heart-whole may have experienced the wildestvicissitudes of passion. "

"And we must remember, likewise, that this was forty years ago, Henry, which makes a material difference in the state of the case as regardsAdmiral Bell. "

"It does indeed--more than half a lifetime; and yet how evident it wasthat his old feelings clung to him. I can well imagine the many hours ofbitter regret which the memory of this his lost love must have givenhim. "

"True--true. I can feel something for him; for have I not lost one wholoved me--a worse loss, too, than that which Admiral Bell relates; foram I not a prey to all the horrors of uncertainty? Whereas he knew theworst, and that, at all events, death had claimed its victim, leavingnothing to conjecture in the shape of suffering, so that the mind hadnothing to do but to recover slowly, but surely, as it would from theshock which it had received. "

"That is worse than you, Flora; but rather would I have you cherish hopeof soon beholding Charles Holland, probably alive and well, than fancyany great disaster has come over him. "

"I will endeavour to do so, " replied Flora. 

"I long to hear what has become of Dr. Chillingworth. His disappearanceis most singular; for I fully suspected that he had some particularobject in view in getting possession for a short time of BannerworthHall; but now, from Jack Pringle's account, he appears not to be in it, and, in fact, to have disappeared completely from the sight of all whoknew him. "

"Yes, " said Flora; "but he may have done that, brother, still infurtherance of his object. "

"It may be so, and I will hope that it is so. Keep yourself close, sister, and see no one, while I proceed to his house to inquire if theyhave heard anything of him. I will return soon, be assured; and, in themeantime, should you see my brother, tell him I shall be at home in anhour or so, and not to leave the cottage; for it is more than likelythat the admiral has gone to Bannerworth Hall, so that you may not seeanything of him for some time. "

CHAPTER LXVIII. 

MARCHDALE'S ATTEMPTED VILLANY, AND THE RESULT. 

[Illustration]

Varney the vampyre left the dungeon of Charles Holland amid the greyruins, with a perfect confidence the young man would keep his word, andnot attempt to escape from that place until the time had elapsed whichhe had dictated to him. 

And well might he have that confidence, for having once given his wordthat he would remain until he heard the clock strike two from aneighbouring church, Charles Holland never dreamt for a moment ofbreaking it. 

To be sure it was a weary time to wait when liberty appeared before him;but he was the soul of honour, and the least likely man in all the worldto infringe in the slightest upon the condition which he had, of his ownfree will, acceded to. 

Sir Francis Varney walked rapidly until he came nearly to the outskirtsof the town, and then he slackened his pace, proceeding more cautiously, and looking carefully about him, as if he feared to meet any one whomight recognise him. 

He had not proceeded far in this manner, when be became conscious of thecautious figure of a man gliding along in the opposite direction to thatwhich he was taking. 

A suspicion struck him, from the general appearance, that it wasMarchdale, and if so he wondered to see him abroad at such a time. Stillhe would not be quite certain; but he hurried forward, so as to meet theadvancing figure, and then his suspicions were confirmed; and Marchdale, with some confusion in his looks and manners, accosted him. 

"Ah, Sir Francis Varney, " he said, "you are out late. "--

"Why, you know I should be out late, " said Varney, "and you likewiseknow the errand upon which I was to be out. "

"Oh, I recollect; you were to release your prisoner. "--

"Yes, I was. "

"And have you done so?"--

"Oh, no. "

"Oh, indeed. I--I am glad you have taken better thoughts of it. Goodnight--good night; we shall meet to-morrow. "--

"Adieu, " said Sir Francis Varney; and he watched the retreating figureof Marchdale, and then he added, in a low tone to himself, --

"I know his object well. His craven spirit shrinks at the notion, aprobable enough one, I will admit, that Charles Holland has recognisedhim, and that, if once free, he would denounce him to the Bannerworths, holding him up to scorn in his true colours, and bringing down upon hishead, perhaps, something more than detestation and contempt. Thevillain! he is going now to take the life of the man whom he considerschained to the ground. Well, well, they must fight it out together. Charles Holland is sufficiently free to take his own part, althoughMarchdale little thinks that such is the case. "

Marchdale walked on for some little distance, and then he turned andlooked after Sir Francis Varney. 

"Indeed!" he said; "so you have not released him to-night, but I knowwell will do so soon. I do not, for my part, admire this romanticgenerosity which sets a fox free at the moment that he's the mostdangerous. It's all very well to be generous, but it is better to bejust first, and that I consider means looking after one's self first. Ihave a poniard here which will soon put an end to the troubles of theprisoner in his dungeon--its edge is keen and sharp, and will readilyfind a way to his heart. "

He walked on quite exultingly and carelessly now, for he had got intothe open country, and it was extremely unlikely that he would meetanybody on his road to the ruins. 

It did not take many minutes, sharp walking now to bring him close tothe spot which he intended should become such a scene of treacherousslaughter, and just then he heard from afar off something like themuttering of thunder, as if Heaven itself was proclaiming its vengeanceagainst the man who had come out to slay one of its best and noblestcreatures. 

"What is that'" said Marchdale, shrinking back a moment; "what isthat--an approaching storm? It must be so, for, now I recollect me, thesun set behind a bank of clouds of a fiery redness, and as the eveningdrew in there was every appearance in the heavens of some ensuing strifeof the elements. "

He listened for a few moments, and fixed his eyes intently in thedirection of the horizon from where the muttering sounds had proceeded. 

He had not long to wait before he saw a bright flash of blue lightning, which for one instant illumined the sky; then by the time he could havecounted twelve there came the thunder which the flash preceded, and hefelt terribly anxious to complete his enterprize, so that he might getback to the town and be safely housed before the storm, which wasevidently approaching, should burst upon him. 

"It is sweeping on apace, " he said; "why did I not come earlier?"

Even as he spoke he plunged among the recesses of the ruins, andsearching about for the old stone which covered the entrance to thedungeon, he was surprised to find it rolled from its place, and theaperture open. 

"What is the meaning of this?" he said; "how negligent of Sir FrancisVarney; or perhaps, after all, he was only jesting with me, and let theprisoner go. If that should be the case, I am foiled indeed; but surelyhe could not be so full of indiscretion. "

Again came a dazzling flash of lightning, which now, surrounded by theruins as he was, made him shrink back and cover his eyes for a moment;and then followed a peal of thunder with not half the duration of timebetween it and the flash which had characterized the previous electricphenomenon. 

"The storm approaches fast, " said Marchdale; "I must get my work donequickly, if indeed my victim be here, which I begin seriously to doubt. "

He descended the intricate winding passage to the vault below, whichserved the purpose of a dungeon, and when he got very nearly into thedepth of its recesses, he called aloud, saying, --

"Ho! what ho! is there any one here?"--"Yes, " said Charles Holland, whofancied it might be his former visitor returned. "Have you come torepent of your purpose?"

"Ah!" said Marchdale to himself, "Sir Francis, after all, has told methe truth--the prisoner is still here. "

The light from without was not near sufficient to send the least rayinto the depths of that dungeon; so that Marchdale, when he entered theplace, could see nothing but an absolute blackness. 

It was not so, however, with Charles Holland, whose eyes had been now solong accustomed to the place that he could see in it as if a dimtwilight irradiated it, and he at once, in his visitor, saw his worstfoe, and not the man who had comparatively set him free. 

He saw, too, that the hand of his visitor grasped a weapon, whichMarchdale thought that, favoured by the darkness, he might carry openlyin perfect security. 

"Where are you?" said Marchdale; "I cannot see you. "--"Here!" saidCharles, "you may feel my grip;" and he sprung upon him in an instant. 

The attack was so sudden and so utterly unexpected, that Marchdale wasthrown backwards, and the dagger wrested from his grasp, during thefirst impulse which Charles Holland had thrown into his attack. 

Moreover, his head struck with such violence against the earthern floor, that it produced a temporary confusion of his faculties, so that, hadCharles Holland been so inclined, he might, with Marchdale's own weapon, have easily taken his life. 

The young man did, on the impulse of the moment, raise it in his hand, but, on the impulse of another thought, he cast it from him, exclaiming--

"No, no! not that; I should be as bad as he, or nearly so. This villainhas come to murder me, but yet I will not take his life for the deed. What shall I do with him? Ha! a lucky thought--chains!"

He dragged Marchdale to the identical spot of earth on which he had lainso long; and, as Sir Francis Varney had left the key of the padlockwhich bound the chains together in it, he, in a few moments, hadsucceeded in placing the villain Marchdale in the same durance fromwhich he had himself shortly since escaped. 

"Remain there, " he said, "until some one comes to rescue you. I will notlet you starve to death, but I will give you a long fast; and, when Icome again, it shall be along with some of the Bannerworth family, toshow them what a viper they have fostered in their hearts. "

Marchdale was just sufficiently conscious now to feel all the realitiesof his situation. In vain he attempted to rise from his prostrateposition. The chains did their duty, keeping down a villain with thesame means that they had held in ignominious confinement a true man. 

He was in a perfect agony, inasmuch as he considered that he would beallowed to remain there to starve to death, thus achieving for himself amore horrible death than any he had ever thought of inflicting. 

"Villain!" exclaimed Charles Holland, "you shall there remain; and, letyou have what mental sufferings you may, you richly deserve them. "

He heeded not the cries of Marchdale--he heeded not his imprecations anymore than he did his prayers; and the arch hypocrite used both inabundance. Charles was but too happy once more to look upon the opensky, although it was then in darkness, to heed anything that Marchdale, in the agony to which he was now reduced, might feel inclined to say;and, after glancing around him for some few moments, when he was free ofthe ruins, and inhaling with exquisite delight the free air of thesurrounding meadows, he saw, by the twinkling of the lights, in whichdirection the town lay, and knowing that by taking a line in that path, and then after a time diverging a little to the right, he should come toBannerworth Hall, he walked on, never in his whole life probably feelingsuch an enjoyment of the mere fact of existence as at such a moment asthat of exquisite liberty. 

Our readers may with us imagine what it is to taste the free, fresh airof heaven, after being long pent up, as he, Charles Holland, had been, in a damp, noisome dungeon, teeming with unwholesome exhalations. Theymay well suppose with what an amount of rapture he now found himselfunrestrained in his movements by those galling fetters which had hungfor so long a period upon his youthful limbs, and which, notunfrequently in the despair of his heart, he had thought he shouldsurely die in. 

And last, although not least in his dear esteem, did the rapturousthought of once more looking in the sweet face of her he loved comecross him with a gush of delight. 

"Yes!" he exclaimed, as he quickened his pace; "yes! I shall be able totell Flora Bannerworth how well and how truly I love her. I shall beable to tell her that, in my weary and hideous imprisonment, the thoughtalone of her has supported me. "

As he neared the Hall, he quickened his pace to such an extent, thatsoon he was forced to pause altogether, as the exertion he hadundertaken pretty plainly told him that the imprisonment, scanty diet, and want of exercise, which had been his portion for some time past, hadmost materially decreased his strength. 

His limbs trembled, and a profuse perspiration bedewed his brow, although the night was rather cold than otherwise. 

"I am very weak, " he said; "and much I wonder now that I succeeded inovercoming that villain Marchdale; who, if I had not done so, would mostassuredly have murdered me. "

And it was a wonder; for Marchdale was not an old man, although he mightbe considered certainly as past the prime of life, and he was of astrong and athletic build. But it was the suddenness of his attack uponhim which had given Charles Holland the great advantage, and had causedthe defeat of the ruffian who came bent on one of the most cowardly anddastardly murders that could be committed--namely, upon an unoffendingman, whom he supposed to be loaded with chains, and incapable of makingthe least efficient resistance. 

Charles soon again recovered sufficient breath and strength to proceedtowards the Hall, and now warned, by the exhaustion which had come overhim that he had not really anything like strength enough to allow him toproceed rapidly, he walked with slow and deliberate steps. 

This mode of proceeding was more favourable to reflection than the wild, rapid one which he had at first adopted, and in all the glowing coloursof youthful and ingenious fancy did he depict to himself the surpriseand the pleasure that would beam in the countenance of his beloved Florawhen she should find him once again by her side. 

Of course, he, Charles, could know nothing of the contrivances which hadbeen resorted to, and which the reader may lay wholly to the charge ofMarchdale, to blacken his character, and to make him appear faithless tothe love he had professed. 

Had he known this, it is probable that indignation would have addedwings to his progress, and he would not have been able to proceed at theleisurely pace he felt that his state of physical weakness dictated tohim. 

And now he saw the topmost portion at Bannerworth Hall pushing out fromamongst the trees with which the ancient pile was so much surrounded, and the sight of the home of his beloved revived him, and quickened thecirculation of the warm blood in his veins. 

"I shall behold her now, " he said--"I shall behold her how! A fewminutes more, and I shall hold her to my heart--that heart which hasbeen ever hers, and which carried her image enshrined in its deepestrecesses, even into the gloom of a dungeon!"

But let us, while Charles Holland is indulging in these delightfulanticipations--anticipations which, we regret, in consequence of thedeparture of the Bannerworths from the Hall, will not be realized sosoon as he supposes--look back upon the discomfited hypocrite andvillain, Marchdale, who occupies his place in the dungeon of the oldruins. 

Until Charles Holland actually had left the strange, horrible, andcell-like place, he could scarcely make up his mind that the young manentertained a serious intention of leaving him there. 

Perhaps he did not think any one could be so cruel and so wicked as hehimself; for the reader will no doubt recollect that his, Marchdale's, counsel to Varney, was to leave Charles Holland to his fate, chaineddown as he was in the dungeon, and that fate would have been thehorrible one of being starved to death in the course of a few days. 

When now, however, he felt confident that he was deserted--when he heardthe sound of Charles Holland's retreating footsteps slowly dying away inthe distance, until not the faintest echo of them reached his ears, hedespaired indeed; and the horror he experienced during the succeedingten minutes, might be considered an ample atonement for some of hiscrimes. His brain was in a complete whirl; nothing of a tangible nature, but that he was there, chained down, and left to starve to death, cameacross his intellect. Then a kind of madness, for a moment or two, tookpossession of him; he made a tremendous effort to burst asunder thebands that held him. 

But it was in vain. The chains--which had been placed upon CharlesHolland during the first few days of his confinement, when he had alittle recovered from the effects of the violence which had beencommitted upon him at the time when he was captured--effectuallyresisted Marchdale. 

They even cut into his flesh, inflicting upon him some grievous wounds;but that was all he achieved by his great efforts to free himself, sothat, after a few moments, bleeding and in great pain, he, with a deepgroan, desisted from the fruitless efforts he had better not havecommenced. 

Then he remained silent for a time, but it was not the silence ofreflection; it was that of exhaustion, and, as such, was not likely tolast long; nor did it, for, in the course of another five minutes, hecalled out loudly. 

Perhaps he thought there might be a remote chance that some onetraversing the meadows would hear him; and yet, if he had dulyconsidered the matter, which he was not in a fitting frame of mind todo, he would have recollected that, in choosing a dungeon among theunderground vaults of these ruins, he had, by experiment, made certainthat no cry, however loud, from where he lay, could reach the upper air. And thus had this villain, by the very precautions which he had himselftaken to ensure the safe custody of another, been his own greatestenemy. 

"Help! help! help!" he cried frantically "Varney! Charles Holland! havemercy upon me, and do not leave me here to starve! Help, oh, Heaven!Curses on all your heads--curses! Oh, mercy--mercy--mercy!"

In suchlike incoherent expressions did he pass some hours, until, whatwith exhaustion and a raging thirst that came over him, he could notutter another word, but lay the very picture of despair and discomfitedmalice and wickedness. 

CHAPTER LXIX. 

FLORA BANNERWORTH AND HER MOTHER. --THE EPISODE OF CHIVALRY. 

[Illustration]

Gladly we turn from such a man as Marchdale to a consideration of thebeautiful and accomplished Flora Bannerworth, to whom we may, withoutdestroying in any way the interest of our plot, predict a much happierdestiny than, probably, at that time, she considers as at all likely tobe hers. 

She certainly enjoyed, upon her first removal from Bannerworth Hall, greater serenity of mind than she had done there; but, as we havealready remarked of her, the more her mind was withdrawn, by change ofscene, from the horrible considerations which the attack of the vampyrehad forced upon her, the more she reverted to the fate of CharlesHolland, which was still shrouded in so much gloom. 

She would sit and converse with her mother upon that subject until sheworked up her feelings to a most uncomfortable pitch of excitement, andthen Mrs. Bannerworth would get her younger brother to join them, whowould occasionally read to her some compositions of his own, or of somefavourite writer whom he thought would amuse her. 

[Illustration]

It was on the very evening when Sir Francis Varney had made up his mindto release Charles Holland, that young Bannerworth read to his sisterand his mother the following little chivalric incident, which he toldthem he had himself collated from authentic sources:--

"The knight with the green shield, " exclaimed one of a party ofmen-at-arms, who were drinking together at an ancient hostel, not farfrom Shrewsbury--"the knight with the green shield is as good a knightas ever buckled on a sword, or wore spurs. "--"Then how comes it he isnot one of the victors in the day's tournament?" exclaimed another. --"Bythe bones of Alfred!" said a third, "a man must be judged of by hisdeserts, and not by the partiality of his friends. That's my opinion, friends. "--"And mine, too, " said another. 

"That is all very true, and my opinion would go with yours, too; but notin this instance. Though you may accuse me of partiality, yet I am notso; for I have seen some of the victors of to-day by no means forward inthe press of battle-men who, I will not say feared danger, but who likedit not so well but they avoided it as much as possible. "

"Ay, marry, and so have I. The reason is, 'tis much easier to face ablunted lance, than one with a spear-head; and a man may practise theone and thrive in it, but not the other; for the best lance in thetournament is not always the best arm in the battle. "

"And that is the reason of my saying the knight with the green shieldwas a good knight. I have seen him in the midst of the melee, when menand horses have been hurled to the ground by the shock; there he hasbehaved himself like a brave knight, and has more than once been noticedfor it. "

"But how canne he to be so easily overthrown to-day? That speakssomething. "--"His horse is an old one. "

"So much the better, " said another; "he's used to his work, and ascunning as an old man. "--"But he has been wounded more than once, and isweakened very much: besides, I saw him lose his footing, else he hadoverthrown his opponent. 

"He did not seem distressed about his accident, at all events, but satcontented in the tent. "--"He knows well that those who know him willnever attribute his misadventure either to want of courage or conduct;moreover, he seems to be one of those who care but little for theopinion of men who care nothing for him. "

"And he's right. Well, dear comrades, the health of Green Knight, or theKnight with a Green Shield, for that's his name, or the designation hechooses to go by. "--"A health to the Knight with the Green Shield!"shouted the men-at-arms, as they lifted their cups on high. 

"Who is he?" inquired one of the men-at-arms, of him who had spokenfavourably of the stranger. --"I don't know. "

"And yet you spoke favourably of him a few seconds back, and said what abrave knight he was!"--"And so I uphold him to be; but, I tell you what, friend, I would do as much for the greatest stranger I ever met. I haveseen him fight where men and horses have bit the dust in hundreds; andthat, in my opinion, speaks out for the man and warrior; he who cannot, then, fight like a soldier, had better tilt at home in the castle-yard, and there win ladies' smiles, but not the commendation of the leader ofthe battle. "

"That's true: I myself recollect very well Sir Hugh de Colbert, a veryaccomplished knight in the castle-yard; but his men were as fine a setof fellows as ever crossed a horse, to look at, but they proveddeficient at the moment of trial; they were broken, and fled in amoment, and scarce one of them received a scratch. "

"Then they hadn't stood the shock of the foeman?"--"No; that's certain. "

"But still I should like to know the knight, --to know his name verywell. "--"I know it not; he has some reason for keeping it secret, Isuppose; but his deeds will not shame it, be it what it may. I can bearwitness to more than one foeman falling beneath his battle-axe. "

"Indeed!"--"Yes; and he took a banner from the enemy in the last battlethat was fought. "

"Ah, well! he deserves a better fortune to-morrow. Who is to be thebridegroom of the beautiful Bertha, daughter of Lord de Cauci?"--"Thatwill have to be decided: but it is presumed that Sir Guthrie de Beaumontis the intended. "

"Ah! but should he not prove the victor?"--"It's understood; becauseit's known he is intended by the parents of the lady, and none would beungallant enough to prevail against him, --save on such conditions aswould not endanger the fruits of victory. "

"No?"--"Certainly not; they would lay the trophies at the foot of thebeauty worshipped by the knights at the tournament. "

"So, triumphant or not, he's to be the bridegroom; bearing off the prizeof valour whether or no, --in fact, deserve her or not, --that's thefact. "--"So it is, so it is. "

"And a shame, too, friends; but so it is now; but yet, if the knight'shorse recovers from the strain, and is fit for work to-morrow, itstrikes me that the Green Shield will give some work to the holidayknight. "

 * * * * *

There had been a grand tournament held near Shrewsbury Castle, in honourof the intended nuptials of the beautiful Lady Bertha de Cauci. She wasthe only daughter of the Earl de Cauci, a nobleman of some note; he wasone of an ancient and unblemished name, and of great riches. 

The lady was beautiful, but, at the same time, she was an unwillingbride, --every one could see that; but the bridegroom cared not for that. There was a sealed sorrow on her brow, --a sorrow that seemed sincere andlasting; but she spoke not of it to any one, --her lips were seldomparted. She loved another. Yes; she loved one who was far away, fightingin the wars of his country, --one who was not so rich in lands as herpresent bridegroom. 

When he left her, she remembered his promise; it was, to fight on tillhe earned a fortune, or name that should give him some right to claimher hand, even from her imperious father. But alas! he came not; andwhat could she do against the commands of one who would be obeyed? Hermother, too, was a proud, haughty woman, one whose sole anxiety was toincrease the grandeur and power of her house by such connections. 

Thus it was pressed on by circumstances, she could no longer hold out, more especially as she heard nothing of her knight. She knew not wherehe was, or indeed if he were living or dead. She knew not he was nevernamed. This last circumstance, indeed, gave her pain; for it assured herthat he whom she loved had been unable to signalize himself from amongother men. That, in fact, he was unknown in the annals of fame, as wellas the probability that he had been slain in some of the earlierskirmishes of the war. This, if it had happened, caused her some pain tothink upon; not but such events were looked upon with almostindifference by females, save in such cases where their affections wereengaged, as on this occasion. But the event was softened by the factthat men were continually falling by the hand of man in such encounters, but at the same time it was considered an honourable and praiseworthydeath for a soldier. He was wounded, but not with the anguish we nowhear of; for the friends were consoled by the reflection that thedeceased warrior died covered with glory. 

Bertha, however, was young, and as yet she knew not the cause of herabsent knight's silence, or why he had not been heard of among the mostforward in the battle. 

"Heaven's will be done, " she exclaimed; "what can I do? I must submit tomy father's behests; but my future life will be one of misery andsorrow. "

She wept to think of the past, and to dream of the future; both alikewere sorrowful to think upon--no comfort in the past and no joy in thefuture. 

Thus she wept and sorrowed on the night of the first tournament; therewas to be a second, and that was to be the grand one, where her intendedbridegroom was to show himself off in her eyes, and take his part in thesport. 

 * * * * *

Bertha sat late--she sat sorrowing by the light of the lamps and theflickering flame of the fire, as it rose and fell on the hearth andthrew dancing shadows on the walls. 

"Oh, why, Arthur Home, should you thus be absent? Absent, too, at such atime when you are more needed than ever. Alas, alas! you may no longerbe in the land of the living. Your family is great and your nameknown--your own has been spoken with commendation from the lips of yourfriend; what more of fame do you need? but I am speaking withoutpurpose. Heaven have mercy on me. "

As she spoke she looked up and saw one of her women in waiting standingby. 

"Well, what would you?"--"My lady, there is one who would speak withyou, " said the hand-maiden. 

"With me?"--"Yes, my lady; he named you the Lady Bertha de Cauci. "

"Who and what is he?" she inquired, with something like trepidation, ofthe maiden. --"I know not, my lady. "

"But gave he not some token by which I might know who I admit to mychamber?"--"None, " replied the maiden. 

"And what does he bear by way of distinguishing himself? What crest ordevice doth he bear?"--"Merely a green shield. "

"The unsuccessful knight in the tournament to-day. Heaven's! what can hedesire with me; he is not--no, no, it cannot be--it cannot be. "--"Willyou admit him, lady?"

"Indeed, I know not what to do; but yet he may have some intelligence togive me. Yes, yes, admit him; but first throw some logs on the fire. "

The attendant did as she was desired, and then quitted the room for thepurpose of admitting the stranger knight with the green shield. In a fewmoments she could hear the stride of the knight as he entered theapartment, and she thought the step was familiar to her ear--she thoughtit was the step of Sir Arthur Home, her lover. She waited anxiously tosee the door open, and then the stranger entered. His form and bearingwas that of her lover, but his visor was down, and she was unable todistinguish the features of the stranger. 

His armour was such as had seen many a day's hard wear, and there wereplenty of marks of the battle about him. His travel-worn accoutrementswere altogether such as bespoke service in the field. 

"Sir, you desired to see me; say wherefore you do so, and if it is newsyou bring. " The knight answered not, but pointed to the femaleattendant, as if he desired she would withdraw. "You may retire, " saidBertha; "be within call, and let me know if I am threatened withinterruption. "

The attendant retired, and then the knight and lady were left alone. Theformer seemed at a loss how to break silence for some moments, and thenhe said, --

"Lady ----"--"Oh, Heavens! 'tis he!" exclaimed Bertha, as she sprang toher feet; "it is Sir Arthur Home!"

"It is, " exclaimed the knight, pulling up his visor, and dropping on oneknee he encircled his arm round the waist of the lady, and at the samemoment he pressed her lips to his own. 

The first emotion of joy and surprise over, Bertha checked hertransports, and chid the knight for his boldness. 

"Nay, chide me not, dear Bertha; lam what I was when I left you, andhope to find you the same. "

"Am I not?" said Bertha. --"Truly I know not, for you seem more beautifulthan you were then; I hope that is the only change. "

"If there be a change, it is only such as you see. Sorrow and regretform the principal causes. "--"I understand you. "

"My intended nuptials ----"--"Yes, I have heard all. I came here butlate in the morning; and my horse was jaded and tired, and my impatienceto attend the tournament caused me a disaster which it is well it came noton the second day. "

"It is, dear Arthur. How is it I never heard your name mentioned, orthat I received no news from any one about you during the wars that haveended?"--"I had more than one personal enemy, Bertha; men who would havebeen glad to see me fall, and who, in default of that, would not haveminded bribing an assassin to secure my death for them at any riskwhatever. "

"Heavens! and how did you escape such a death from such people, Arthur?"--"By adopting such a device as that I wear. The Knight of theGreen Shield I'm called. "

"I saw you to-day in the tournament. "--"And there my tired and jadedhorse gave way; but to-morrow I shall have, I hope, a differentfortune. "

"I hope so too. "--"I will try; my arm has been good in battle, and Isee not why it should be deficient in peaceful jousts. "

"Certainly not. What fortune have you met with since you leftEngland?"--"I was of course known but to a few; among those few were thegeneral under whom I served and my more immediate officers, who I knewwould not divulge my secret. "

"And they did not?"--"No; kept it nobly, and kept their eyes upon me inbattle; and I have reaped a rich harvest in force, honour, and riches, Iassure you. "

"Thank Heaven!" said Bertha. --"Bertha, if I be conqueror, may I claimyou in the court-yard before all the spectators?"

"You may, " said Bertha, and she hung her head. --"Moreover, " said SirArthur, "you will not make a half promise, but when I demand you, youwill at once come down to me and accept me as your husband; if I be thevictor then he cannot object to the match. "

"But he will have many friends, and his intended bride will have manymore, so that you may run some danger among so many enemies. "--"Neverfear for me, Bertha, because I shall have many friends of distinctionthere too--many old friends who are tried men in battle, and whose deedsare a glory and honour to them; besides, I shall have my commander andseveral gentlemen who would at once interfere in case any unfairadvantage was attempted to be taken of my supposed weakness. "

"Have you a fresh horse?" inquired Bertha. --"I have, or shall have bythe morning; but promise me you will do what I ask you, and then my armwill be nerved to its utmost, and I am sure to be victorious. "

"I do promise, " said Bertha; "I hope you may be as successful as youhope to be, Arthur; but suppose fortune should declare against you;suppose an accident of any kind were to happen, what could be donethen?"--"I must be content to hide myself for ever afterwards, as adefeated knight; how can I appear before your friends as the claimant ofyour hand?"

"I will never have any other. "--"But you will be forced to accept thisGuthrie de Beaumont, your father's chosen son-in-law. "

"I will seek refuge in a cloister. "--"Will you fly with me, Bertha, tosome sequestered spot, where we can live in each others society?"

"Yes, " said Bertha, "anything, save marriage with Guthrie deBeaumont. "--"Then await the tournament of to-morrow, " said Sir Arthur, "and then this may be avoided; in the meantime, keep up a good heart andremember I am at hand. "

 * * * * *

These two lovers parted for the present, after a protracted interview, Bertha to her chamber, and the Knight of the Green Shield to his tent. 

The following morning was one of great preparation; the lists had beenenlarged, and the seats made more commodious, for the influx of visitorsappeared to be much greater than had been anticipated. 

Moreover, there were many old warriors of distinction to be present, which made the bridegroom look pale and feel uncomfortable as to theresults of the tournament. The tilting was to begin at an early hour, and then the feasting and revelry would begin early in the evening, after the tilting had all passed off. 

In that day's work there were many thrown from their saddles, and manybroke their lances. The bridegroom tilted with several knights, and cameoff victorious, or without disadvantage to either. 

The green knight, on the contrary, tilted with but few, and alwaysvictorious, and such matches were with men who had been men of some namein the wars, or at least in the tilt yard. 

The sports drew to a close, and when the bridegroom became thechallenger, the Knight of the Green Shield at once rode out quietly tomeet him. The encounter could not well be avoided, and the bridegroomwould willingly have declined the joust with a knight who had disposedof his enemies so easily, and so unceremoniously as he had. 

The first encounter was enough; the bridegroom was thrown to a greatdistance, and lay insensible on the ground, and was carried out of thefield. There was an immediate sensation among the friends of thebridegroom, several of whom rode out to challenge the stranger knightfor his presumption. 

In this, however, they had misreckoned the chances, for the challengedaccepted their challenges with alacrity and disposed of them one by onewith credit to himself until the day was concluded. The stranger wasthen asked to declare who he was, upon which he lifted his visor, andsaid, "I am Sir Arthur Home, and claim the Lady Bertha as my bride, by thelaws of arms, and by those of love. "

 * * * * *

Again the tent was felled, and again the hostelry was tenanted by thesoldier, who declared for one side and then for the other, as the cupsclanged and jingled together. 

"Said I not, " exclaimed one of the troopers, "that the knight with agreen shield was a good knight?"--"You did, " replied the other. 

"And you knew who he was?" said another of the troopers. --"Not I, comrades; I had seen him fight in battle, and, therefore, partly guessedhow it would be if he had any chance with the bridegroom. I'm glad hehas won the lady. "

It was true, the Lady Bertha was won, and Sir Arthur Home claimed hisbride, and then they attempted to defeat his claim; yet Bertha at onceexpressed herself in his favour, to strongly that they were, howeverreluctantly compelled, to consent at last. 

At this moment, a loud shout as from a multitude of persons came upontheir ears and Flora started from her seat in alarm. The cause of thealarm we shall proceed to detail. 

CHAPTER LXX. 

THE FUNERAL OF THE STRANGER OF THE INN. --THE POPULAR COMMOTION, AND MRS. CHILLINGWORTH'S APPEAL TO THE MOB. --THE NEW RIOT. --THE HALL IN DANGER. 

[Illustration]

As yet the town was quiet; and, though there was no appearance of riotor disturbance, yet the magistracy had taken every precaution theydeemed needful, or their position and necessities warranted, to securethe peace of the town from the like disturbance to that which had been, of late, a disgrace and terror of peaceably-disposed persons. 

The populace were well advertised of the fact, that the body of thestranger was to be buried that morning in their churchyard; and that, toprotect the body, should there be any necessity for so doing, a largebody of constables would be employed. 

There was no disposition to riot; at least, none was visible. It lookedas if there was some event about to take place that was highlyinteresting to all parties, who were peaceably assembling to witness theinterment of nobody knew who. 

The early hour at which persons were assembling, at different points, clearly indicated that there was a spirit of curiosity about the town, so uncommon that none would have noticed it but for the fact of thecrowd of people who hung about the streets, and there remained, listlessand impatient. 

The inn, too, was crowded with visitors, and there were many who, notbeing blessed with the strength of purse that some were, were hangingabout in the distance, waiting and watching the motions of those whowere better provided. 

"Ah!" said one of the visitors, "this is a disagreeable job in yourhouse, landlord. "--"Yes, sir; I'd sooner it had happened elsewhere, Iassure you. I know it has done me no good. "

"No; no man could expect any, and yet it is none the less unfortunatefor that. "--"I would sooner anything else happen than that, whatever itmight be. I think it must be something very bad, at all events; but Idare say I shall never see the like again. "

"So much the better for the town, " said another; "for, what withvampyres and riots, there has been but little else stirring thanmischief and disturbances of one kind and another. "

"Yes; and, what between Varneys and Bannerworths, we have had but littlepeace here. "

"Precisely. Do you know it's my opinion that the least thing would upsetthe whole town. Any one unlucky word would do it, I am sure, " said atall thin man. 

"I have no doubt of it, " said another; "but I hope the military would dotheir duty under such circumstances, for people's lives and property arenot safe in such a state of things. "--"Oh, dear no. "

"I wonder what has become of Varney, or where he can have goneto. "--"Some thought he must have been burned when they burned hishouse, " replied the landlord. 

"But I believe it generally understood he's escaped, has he not? Notraces of his body were found in the ruins. "--"None. Oh! he's escaped, there can be no doubt of that. I wish I had some fortune depending uponthe fact; it would be mine, I am sure. "

"Well, the lord keep us from vampyres and suchlike cattle, " said an oldwoman. "I shall never sleep again in my bed with any safety. Itfrightens one out of one's life to think of it. What a shame the mendidn't catch him and stake him!"

The old woman left the inn as soon as she had spoke this Christianspeech. 

"Humane!" said a gentleman, with a sporting coat on. "The old woman isno advocate for half measures!"

"You are right, sir, " said the landlord; "and a very good look-out shekeeps upon the pot, to see it's full, and carefully blows the frothoff!"--"Ah! I thought as much. "

"How soon will the funeral take place, landlord?" inquired a person, whohad at that moment entered the inn. --"In about an hour's time, sir. "

"Oh! the town seems pretty full, though it is very quiet. I suppose itis more as a matter of curiosity people congregate to see the funeral ofthis stranger?"

"I hope so, sir. "

"The time is wearing on, and if they don't make a dust, why then themilitary will not be troubled. "

"I do not expect anything more, sir, " said the landlord; "for you seethey must have had their swing out, as the saying is, and be fullysatisfied. They cannot have much more to do in the way of exhibitingtheir anger or dislike to vampyres--they all have done enough. "

"So they have--so they have. "

"Granted, " said an old man with a troublesome cough; "but when did youever know a mob to be satisfied? If they wanted the moon and got it, they'd find out it would be necessary to have the stars also. "

"That's uncommonly true, " said the landlord. "I shouldn't be surprisedif they didn't do something worse than ever. "--"Nothing more likely, "said the little old man. "I can believe anything of a mob--anything--nomatter what. "

The inn was crowded with visitors, and several extra hands were employedto wait upon the customers, and a scene of bustle and activity wasdisplayed that was never before seen. It would glad the heart of alandlord, though he were made of stone, and landlords are usually ofmuch more malleable materials than that. 

However, the landlord had hardly time to congratulate himself, for thebearers were come now, and the undertaker and his troop ofdeath-following officials. 

There was a stir among the people, who began now to awaken from thelethargy that seemed to have come over them while they were waiting forthe moment when it should arrive, that was to place the body under thegreen sod, against which so much of their anger had been raised. Therewas a decent silence that pervaded the mob of individuals who hadassembled. 

Death, with all its ghastly insignia, had an effect even upon theunthinking multitude, who were ever ready to inflict death or anyviolent injury upon any object that came in their way--they neverhesitated; but even these, now the object of their hatred was no more, felt appalled. 

'Tis strange what a change comes over masses of men as they gaze upon adead body. It may be that they all know that to that complexion theymust come at last. This may be the secret of the respect offered to thedead. 

The undertakers are men, however, who are used to the presence ofdeath--it is their element; they gain a living by attending upon thelast obsequies of the dead; they are used to dead bodies, and care notfor them. Some of them are humane men, that is, in their way; and evenamong them are men who wouldn't be deprived of the joke as they screweddown the last screw. They could not forbear, even on this occasion, tohold their converse when left alone. 

"Jacobs, " said one who was turning a long screw, "Jacobs, my boy, do youtake the chair to-night?"--"Yes, " said Jacobs who was a longlugubrious-looking man, "I do take the chair, if I live over thisblessed event. "

"You are not croaking, Jacobs, are you? Well, you are a lively customer, you are. "--"Lively--do you expect people to be lively when they are fulldressed for a funeral? You are a nice article for your profession. Youdon't feel like an undertaker, you don't. "

"Don't, Jacobs, my boy. As long as I look like one when occasiondemands; when I have done my job I puts my comfort in my pocket, andthinks how much more pleasanter it is to be going to other people'sfunerals than to our own, and then only see the difference as regardsthe money. "

"True, " said Jacobs with a groan; "but death's a melancholy article, atall events. "--"So it is. "

"And then when you come to consider the number of people we haveburied--how many have gone to their last homes--and how many more willgo the same way. "--"Yes, yes; that's all very well, Jacob. You areprecious surly this morning. I'll come to-night. You're brewing asentimental tale as sure as eggs is eggs. "

"Well, that is pretty certain; but as I was saying how many more arethere--"

"Ah, don't bother yourself with calculations that have neither beginningnor end, and which haven't one point to go. Come, Jacob, have youfinished yet?"--"Quite, " said Jacob. 

They now arranged the pall, and placed all in readiness, and returned toa place down stairs where they could enjoy themselves for an odd halfhour, and pass that time away until the moment should arrive when hisreverence would be ready to bury the deceased, upon consideration of thefees to be paid upon the occasion. 

The tap-room was crowded, and there was no room for the men, and theywere taken into the kitchen, where they were seated, and earnestly atwork, preparing for the ceremony that had so shortly to be performed. 

"Any better, Jacobs?"--"What do you mean?" inquired Jacobs, with agroan. "It's news to me if I have been ill. "

"Oh, yes, you were doleful up stairs, you know. "--"I've a proper regardfor my profession--that's the difference between you and I, you know. "

"I'll wager you what you like, now, that I'll handle a corpse and drivea screw in a coffin as well as you, now, although you are so solid andmiserable. "--"So you may--so you may. "

"Then what do you mean by saying I haven't a proper regard for myprofession?"--"I say you haven't, and there's the thing that shall proveit--you don't look it, and that's the truth. "

"I don't look like an undertaker! indeed I dare say I don't if I ain'tdressed like one. "--"Nor when you are, " reiterated Jacob. 

"Why not, pray?"--"Because you have always a grin on your face as broadas a gridiron--that's why. "

This ended the dispute, for the employer of the men suddenly put hishead in, saying, --

"Come, now, time's up; you are wanted up stairs, all of you. Be quick;we shall have his reverence waiting for us, and then we shall lose hisrecommendation. "

"Ready sir, " said the round man, taking up his pint and finishing it offat a draught, at the same moment he thrust the remains of some bread andcheese into his pocket. 

Jacob, too, took his pot, and, having finished it, with great gravityfollowed the example of his more jocose companion, and they all left thekitchen for the room above, where the corpse was lying ready forinterment. 

There was an unusual bustle; everybody was on the tip-top ofexpectation, and awaiting the result in a quiet hurry, and hoped to havethe first glimpse of the coffin, though why they should do so it wasdifficult to define. But in this fit of mysterious hope and expectationthey certainly stood. 

"Will they be long?" inquired a man at the door of one inside, --"willthey be long before they come?"--"They are coming now, " said the man. "Do you all keep quiet; they are knocking their heads against the top ofthe landing. Hark! There, I told you so. "

The man departed, hearing something, and being satisfied that he had gotsome information. 

"Now, then, " said the landlord, "move out of the way, and allow thecorpse to pass out. Let me have no indecent conduct; let everything beas it should be. "

The people soon removed from the passage and vicinity of the doorway, and then the mournful procession--as the newspapers have it--movedforward. They were heard coming down stairs, and thence along thepassage, until they came to the street, and then the whole number ofattendants was plainly discernible. 

How different was the funeral of one who had friends. He was alone; nonefollowed, save the undertaker and his attendants, all of whom lookedsolemn from habit and professional motives. Even the jocose man was assupernaturally solemn as could be well imagined; indeed, nobody knew hewas the same man. 

"Well, " said the landlord, as he watched them down the street, as theyslowly paced their way with funereal, not sorrowful, solemnity--"well, Iam very glad that it is all over. "

"It has been a sad plague to you, " said one. 

"It has, indeed; it must be to any one who has had another such a job asthis. I don't say it out of any disrespect to the poor man who is deadand gone--quite the reverse; but I would not have such another affair onmy hands for pounds. "

"I can easily believe you, especially when we come to consider thedisagreeables of a mob. "

"You may say that. There's no knowing what they will or won't do, confound them! If they'd act like men, and pay for what they have, why, then I shouldn't care much about them; but it don't do to have otherpeople in the bar. "

"I should think not, indeed; that would alter the scale of your profits, I reckon. "

"It would make all the difference to me. Business, " added the landlord, "conducted on that scale, would become a loss; and a man might as wellwalk into a well at once. "

"So I should say. Have many such occurrences as these been usual in thispart of the country?" inquired the stranger. 

"Not usual at all, " said the landlord; "but the fact is, the wholeneighbourhood has run distracted about some superhuman being they call avampyre. "

"Indeed!"--"Yes; and they suspected the unfortunate man who has beenlying up-stairs, a corpse, for some days. "

"Oh, the man they have just taken in the coffin to bury?" said thestranger. 

"Yes, sir, the same. "

"Well, I thought perhaps somebody of great consequence had suddenlybecome defunct. "--"Oh, dear no; it would not have caused half thesensation; people have been really mad. "

"It was a strange occurrence, altogether, I believe, was it?" inquiredthe stranger. --"Indeed it was, sir. I hardly know the particulars, therehave been so many tales afloat; though they all concur in one point, andthat is, it has destroyed the peace of one family. "

"Who has done so?"--"The vampyre. "

"Indeed! I never heard of such an animal, save as a fable, before; itseems to me extraordinary. "

"So it would do to any one, sir, as was not on the spot, to see it; I'msure I wouldn't. "

 * * * * *

In the meantime, the procession, short as it was of itself, moved alongin slow time through a throng of people who ran out of their houses oneither side of the way, and lined the whole length of the town. 

Many of these closed in behind, and followed the mourners until theywere near the church, and then they made a rush to get into thechurchyard. 

As yet all had been conducted with tolerable propriety, the funeral metwith no impediment. The presence of death among so many of them seemedsome check upon the licence of the mob, who bowed in silence to themajesty of death. 

Who could bear ill-will against him who was now no more? Man, while heis man, is always the subject of hatred, fear, or love. Some one ofthese passions, in a modified state, exists in all men, and with suchfeelings they will regard each other; and it is barely possible that anyone should not be the object of some of these, and hence the stranger'scorpse was treated with respect. 

In silence the body proceeded along the highway until it came to thechurchyard, and followed by an immense multitude of people of allgrades. 

The authorities trembled; they knew not what all this portended. Theythought it might pass off; but it might become a storm first; they hopedand feared by turns, till some of them fell sick with apprehension. 

There was a deep silence observed by all those in the immediate vicinityof the coffin, but those farther in the rear found full expression fortheir feelings. 

"Do you think, " said an old man to another, "that he will come to lifeagain, eh?"--"Oh, yes, vampyres always do, and lay in the moonlight, andthen they come to life again. Moonlight recovers a vampyre to lifeagain. "

"And yet the moonlight is cold. "--"Ah, but who's to tell what may happento a vampyre, or what's hot or what's cold?"

"Certainly not; oh, dear, no. "--"And then they have permission to suckthe blood of other people, to live themselves, and to make other peoplevampyres, too. "

"The lord have mercy upon us!"--"Ay, but they have driven a stakethrough this one, and he can't get in moonlight or daylight; it's allover--he's certainly done for; we may congratulate ourselves on thispoint. "

"So we may--so we may. "

They now neared the grave, the clergyman officiating as usual on suchoccasions. There was a large mob of persons on all sides, with seriousfaces, watching the progress of the ceremony, and who listened inquietness. 

There was no sign of any disturbance amongst the people, and theauthorities were well pleased; they congratulated themselves upon thequietness and orderliness of the assemblage. 

The service was ended and the coffin lowered, and the earth was thrownon the coffin-lid with a hollow sound. Nobody could hear that soundunmoved. But in a short while the sound ceased as the grave becamefilled; it was then trodden carefully down. 

There were no relatives there to feel affected at the last scene of all. They were far away, and, according to popular belief upon the subject, they must have been dead some ages. 

 * * * * *

The mob watched the last shovel-full of earth thrown upon the coffin, and witnessed the ramming down of the soil, and the heaping of it overat top to make the usual monument; for all this was done speedily andcarefully, lest there should be any tendency to exhume the body of thedeceased. 

The people were now somewhat relieved, as to their state of solemnityand silence. They would all of them converse freely on the matter thathad so long occupied their thoughts. 

They seemed now let loose, and everybody found himself at liberty to sayor do something, no matter if it were not very reasonable; that is notalways required of human beings who have souls, or, at least it isunexpected; and were it expected, the expectation would never berealized. 

The day was likely to wear away without a riot, nay, even without afight; a most extraordinary occurrence for such a place under theexisting circumstances; for of late the populace, or, perhaps, thetownspeople, were extremely pugnacious, and many were the disputes thatwere settled by the very satisfactory application of the knuckles to thehead of the party holding a contrary opinion. 

Thus it was they were ready to take fire, and a hubbub would be theresult of the slightest provocation. But, on the present occasion, therewas a remarkable dearth of, all subjects of the nature described. 

Who was to lead Israel out to battle? Alas! no one on the presentoccasion. 

Such a one, however, appeared, at least, one who furnished a readyexcuse for a disturbance. 

Suddenly, Mrs Chillingworth appeared in the midst of a large concourseof people. She had just left her house, which was close at hand, hereyes red with weeping, and her children around her on this occasion. 

The crowd made way for her, and gathered round her to see what was goingto happen. 

"Friends and neighbours, " she said "can any of you relieve the tears ofa distressed wife and mother, have any of you seen anything of myhusband, Mr. Chillingworth?"

"What the doctor?" exclaimed one. --"Yes; Mr. Chillingworth, the surgeon. He has not been home two days and a night. I'm distracted!--what canhave become of him I don't know, unless--"

Here Mrs Chillingworth paused, and some person said, --

"Unless what, Mrs Chillingworth? there are none but friends here, whowish the doctor well, and would do anything to serve him--unless what?speak out. "

"Unless he's been destroyed by the vampyre. Heaven knows what we may allcome to! Here am I and my children deprived of our protector by somemeans which we cannot imagine. He never, in all his life, did the samebefore. "

"He must have been spirited away by some of the vampyres. I'll tell youwhat, friend, " said one to another, "that something must be done;nobody's safe in their bed. "

"No; they are not, indeed. I think that all vampyres ought to be burnedand a stake run through them, and then we should be safe. "

"Ay; but you must destroy all those who are even suspected of beingvampyres, or else one may do all the mischief. "--"So he might. "

"Hurrah!" shouted the mob. "Chillingworth for ever! We'll find thedoctor somewhere, if we pull down the whole town. "

There was an immense commotion among the populace, who began to startthrowing stones, and do all sorts of things without any particularobject, and some, as they said, to find the doctor, or to show howwilling they were to do so if they knew how. 

Mrs. Chillingworth, however, kept on talking to the mob, who continuedshouting; and the authorities anticipated an immediate outbreak ofpopular opinion, which is generally accompanied by some forcibledemonstration, and on this occasion some one suggested the propriety ofburning down Bannerworth Hall; because they had burned down thevampyre's home, and they might as well burn down that of the injuredparty, which was carried by acclamation; and with loud shouts theystarted on their errand. 

This was a mob's proceeding all over, and we regret very much to say, that it is very much the characteristic of English mobs. What anuncommonly strange thing it is that people in multitudes seem completelyto get rid of all reason--all honour--all common ordinary honesty;while, if you were to take the same people singly, you would find thatthey were reasonable enough, and would shrink with a feeling quiteapproaching to horror from anything in the shape of very flagrantinjustice. 

This can only be accounted for by a piece of cowardice in the humanrace, which induces them when alone, and acting with the fullresponsibility of their actions, to shrink from what it is quite evidentthey have a full inclination to do, and will do when, having partiallylost their individuality in a crowd, they fancy, that to a certainextent they can do so with impunity. 

The burning of Sir Francis Varney's house, although it was one of thoseproceedings which would not bear the test of patient examination, wasyet, when we take all the circumstances into consideration, an actreally justifiable and natural in comparison with the one which was nowmeditated. 

Bannerworth Hall had never been the residence even of anyone who haddone the people any injury or given them any offence, so that to let itbecome a prey to the flames was but a gratuitous act of mischief. 

It was, however, or seemed to be, doomed, for all who have had anyexperience in mobs, must know how extremely difficult it is to withdrawthem from any impulse once given, especially when that impulse, as inthe present instance, is of a violent character. 

"Down with Bannerworth Hall!" was the cry. "Burn it--burn it, " andaugmented by fresh numbers each minute, the ignorant, and, in manyrespects, ruffianly assemblage, soon arrived within sight of what hadbeen for so many years the bane of the Bannerworths, and whatever mayhave been the fault of some of that race, those faults had been of adomestic character, and not at all such as would interfere with thepublic weal. 

The astonished, and almost worn-out authorities, hastily, now, afterhaving disposed of their prisoners, collected together what troops theycould, and by the time the misguided, or rather the not guided at allpopulace, had got halfway to Bannerworth Hall, they were beingoutflanked by some of the dragoons, who, by taking a more direct route, hoped to reach Bannerworth Hall first, and so perhaps, by letting themob see that it was defended, induce them to give up the idea of itsdestruction on account of the danger attendant upon the proceeding byfar exceeding any of the anticipated delight of the disturbance. 

[Illustration]

CHAPTER LXXI. 

THE STRANGE MEETING AT THE HALL BETWEEN MR. CHILLINGWORTH AND THEMYSTERIOUS FRIEND OF VARNEY. 

[Illustration]

When we praise our friend Mr. Chillingworth for not telling his wifewhere he was going, in pursuance of a caution and a discrimination sohighly creditable to him, we are quite certain that he has no suchexcuse as regards the reader. Therefore we say at once that he had hisown reasons now for taking up his abode at Bannerworth Hall for a time. These reasons seemed to be all dependant upon the fact of having met themysterious man at Sir Francis Varney's; and although we perhaps wouldhave hoped that the doctor might have communicated to Henry Bannerworthall that he knew and all that he surmised, yet have we no doubt thatwhat he keeps to himself he has good reasons for so keeping, and thathis actions as regards it are founded upon some very just conclusions. 

He has then made a determination to take possession of, and remain in, Bannerworth Hall according to the full and free leave which the admiralhad given him so to do. What results he anticipated from so lonely andso secret a watch we cannot say, but probably they will soon exhibitthemselves. It needed no sort of extraordinary discrimination for anyone to feel it once that not the least good, in the way of an ambuscade, was likely to be effected by such persons as Admiral Bell or JackPringle. They were all very well when fighting should actually ensue, but they both were certainly remarkably and completely deficient indiplomatic skill, or in that sort of patience which should enable themat all to compete with the cunning, the skill, and the nicediscrimination of such a man as Sir Francis Varney. 

If anything were to be done in that way it was unquestionably to be doneby some one alone, who, like the doctor, would, and could, remainprofoundly quiet and await the issue of events, be they what they might, and probably remain a spy and attempt no overt act which should be of ahostile character. This unquestionably was the mode, and perhaps weshould not be going too far when we say it was the only mode which couldbe with anything like safety relied upon as one likely to lead really toa discovery of Sir Francis Varney's motives in making such determinedexertions to get possession of Bannerworth Hall. 

That night was doomed to be a very eventful one, indeed; for on it hadCharles Holland been, by a sort of wild impulsive generosity of SirFrancis Varney, rescued from the miserable dungeon in which he had beenconfined, and on that night, too, he, whom we cannot otherwise describethan as the villain Marchdale, had been, in consequence of the evil thathe himself meditated, and the crime with which he was quite willing tostain his soul, been condemned to occupy Charles's position. 

On that night, too, had the infuriated mob determined upon thedestruction of Bannerworth Hall, and on that night was Mr. Chillingworthwaiting with what patience he could exert, at the Hall, for whatever inthe chapter of accidents might turn up of an advantageous character tothat family in whose welfare and fortunes he felt so friendly and sodeep an interest. 

Let us look, then, at the worthy doctor as he keeps his solitary watch. 

He did not, as had been the case when the admiral shared the place withhim in the hope of catching Varney on that memorable occasion when hecaught only his boot, sit in a room with a light and the means andappliances for making the night pass pleasantly away; but, on thecontrary, he abandoned the house altogether, and took up a station inthat summer-house which has been before mentioned as the scene of aremarkable interview between Flora Bannerworth and Varney the vampyre. 

Alone and in the dark, so that he could not be probably seen, he watchedthat one window of the chamber where the first appearance of the hideousvampyre had taken place, and which seemed ever since to be the specialobject of his attack. 

By remaining from twilight, and getting accustomed to the graduallyincreasing darkness of the place, no doubt the doctor was able to seewell enough without the aid of any artificial light whether any one wasin the place besides himself. 

"Night after night, " he said, "will I watch here until I have succeededin unravelling this mystery; for that there is some fearful and undreamtof mystery at the bottom of all these proceedings I am well convinced. "

When he made such a determination as this, Dr. Chillingworth was not atall a likely man to break it, so there, looking like a modern statue inthe arbour, he sat with his eyes fixed upon the balcony and the windowof what used to be called Flora's room for some hours. 

The doctor was a contemplative man, and therefore he did not so acutelyfeel the loneliness of his position as many persons would have done;moreover, he was decidedly not of a superstitious turn of mind, althoughcertainly we cannot deny an imagination to him. However, if he reallyhad harboured some strange fears and terrors they would have beenexcusable, when we consider how many circumstances had combined to makeit almost a matter of demonstration that Sir Francis Varney wassomething more than mortal. 

What quantities of subjects the doctor thought over during his vigil inthat garden it is hard to say, but never in his whole life, probably, had he such a glorious opportunity for the most undisturbedcontemplation of subjects requiring deep thought to analyze, than as hehad then. At least he felt that since his marriage he had never been sothoroughly quiet, and left so completely to himself. 

It is to be hoped that he succeeded in settling any medical points of aknotty character that might be hovering in his brain, and certain it isthat he had become quite absorbed in an abstruse matter connected withphysiology, when his ears were startled, and he was at once aroused to afull consciousness of where he was, and why he had come there, by thedistant sound of a man's footstep. 

It was a footstep which seemed to be that of a person who scarcelythought it at all necessary to use any caution, and the doctor's heartleaped within him as in the lowest possible whisper he said tohimself, --

"I am successful--I am successful. It is believed now that the Hall isdeserted, and no doubt that is Sir Francis Varney come with confidence, to carry out his object in so sedulously attacking it, be that objectwhat it may. "

Elated with this idea, the doctor listened intently to the advancingfootstep, which each moment sounded more clearly upon his ears. 

It was evidently approaching from the garden entrance towards the house, and he thought, by the occasional deadened sound of the person's feet, be he whom he might, that he could not see his way very well, and, consequently, frequently strayed from the path, on to some of thenumerous flower-beds which were in the way. 

"Yes, " said the doctor, exultingly, "it must be Varney; and now I havebut to watch him, and not to resist him; for what good on earth is it tostop him in what he wishes to do, and, by such means, never wrest hissecret from him. The only way is to let him go on, and that will I do, most certainly. "

Now he heard the indistinct muttering of the voice of some one, so lowthat he could not catch what words were uttered; but he fancied that, inthe deep tones, he recognised, without any doubt, the voice of SirFrancis Varney. 

"It must be he, " he said, "it surely must be he. Who else would comehere to disturb the solitude of an empty house? He comes! he comes!"

Now the doctor could see a figure emerge from behind some thick beeches, which had before obstructed his vision, and he looked scrutinisinglyabout, while some doubts stole slowly over his mind now as to whether itwas the vampyre or not. The height was in favour of the supposition thatit was none other than Varney; but the figure looked so much stouter, that Mr. Chillingworth felt a little staggered upon the subject, andunable wholly to make up his mind upon it. 

The pausing of this visitor, too, opposite that window where Sir FrancisVarney had made his attempts, was another strong reason why the doctorwas inclined to believe it must be him, and yet he could not quite makeup his mind upon the subject, so as to speak with certainty. 

A very short time, however, indeed, must have sufficed to set such aquestion as that at rest; and patience seemed the only quality of mindnecessary under those circumstances for Mr. Chillingworth to exert. 

The visitor continued gazing either at that window, or at the wholefront of the house, for several minutes, and then he turned away from acontemplation of it, and walked slowly along, parallel with the windowsof that dining-room, one of which had been broken so completely on theoccasion of the admiral's attempt to take the vampyre prisoner. 

The moment the stranger altered his position, from looking at thewindow, and commenced walking away from it, Mr. Chillingworth's mind wasmade up. It was not Varney--of that he felt now most positively assured, and could have no doubt whatever upon the subject. 

The gait, the general air, the walk, all were different; and then arosethe anxious question of who could it be that had intruded upon thatlonely place, and what could be the object of any one else but Varneythe vampyre to do so. 

The stranger looked a powerful man, and walked with a firm tread, and, altogether he was an opponent that, had the doctor been ever sobelligerently inclined, it would have been the height of indiscretionfor him to attempt to cope with. 

It was a very vexatious thing, too, for any one to come there at such ajuncture, perhaps only from motives of curiosity, or possibly just toendeavour to commit some petty depredations upon the deserted building, if possible; and most heartily did the doctor wish that, in some way, hecould scare away the intruder. 

The man walked along very slowly, indeed, and seemed to be quite takinghis time in making his observations of the building; and this was themore provoking, as it was getting late, and if having projected a visitat all, it would surely soon be made, and then, when he found any onethere, of course, he would go. 

Amazed beyond expression, the doctor felt about on the ground at hisfeet, until he found a tolerably large stone, which he threw at thestranger with so good an aim, that it hit him a smart blow on the back, which must have been anything but a pleasant surprise. 

That it was a surprise, and that, too, a most complete one, was evidentfrom the start which the man gave, and then he uttered a furious oath, and rubbed his back, as he glanced about him to endeavour to ascertainfrom whence the missile had come. 

"I'll try him again with that, " thought the doctor; "it may succeed inscaring him away;" and he stooped to watch for another stone. 

It was well that he did so at that precise moment; for, before he roseagain, he heard the sharp report of a pistol, and a crashing sound amongsome of the old wood work of which the summer-house was composed, toldhim that a shot had there taken effect. Affairs were now getting muchtoo serious; and, accordingly, Dr. Chillingworth thought that, ratherthan stay there to be made a target of, he would face the intruder. 

"Hold--hold!" he cried. "Who are you, and what do you mean bythat?"--"Oh! somebody is there, " cried the man, as he advanced. "Myfriend, whoever you are, you were very foolish to throw a stone at me. "

"And, my friend, whoever you are, " responded the doctor, "you were veryspiteful to fire a pistol bullet at me in consequence. "--

"Not at all. "

"But I say yes; for, probably, I can prove a right to be here, which youcannot. "--"Ah!" said the stranger, "that voice--why--you are Dr. Chillingworth?"

"I am; but I don't know you, " said the doctor, as he emerged now fromthe summer-house, and confronted the stranger who was within a few pacesof the entrance to it. Then he started, as he added, --

"Yes, I do know you, though. How, in the name of Heaven, came you here, and what purpose have you in so coming?"

"What purpose have you? Since we met at Varney's, I have been makingsome inquiries about this neighbourhood, and learn strangethings. "--"That you may very easily do here; and, what is moreextraordinary, the strange things are, for the most part, I can assureyou, quite true. "

The reader will, from what has been said, now readily recognise this manas Sir Francis Varney's mysterious visitor, to whom he gave, from somehidden cause or another, so large a sum of money, and between whom andDr. Chillingworth a mutual recognition had taken place, on the occasionwhen Sir Francis Varney had, with such cool assurance, invited theadmiral to breakfast with him at his new abode. 

"You, however, " said the man, "I have no doubt, are fully qualified totell me of more than I have been able to learn from other people; and, first of all, let me ask you why you are here?"--"Before I answer youthat question, or any other, " said the doctor, "let me beg of you totell me truly, is Sir Francis Varney--"

The doctor whispered in the ear of the stranger some name, as if hefeared, even there, in the silence of that garden, where everythingconspired to convince him that he could not be overheard, to pronounceit in an audible tone. 

"He is, " said the other. --"You have no manner of doubt of it?"

"Doubt?--certainly not. What doubt can I have? I know it for a positivecertainty, and he knows, of course, that I do know it, and has purchasedmy silence pretty handsomely, although I must confess that nothing butmy positive necessities would have induced me to make the large demandsupon him that I have, and I hope soon to be able to release himaltogether from them. "

The doctor shook his head repeatedly, as he said, --

"I suspected it; I suspected it, do you know, from the first moment thatI saw you there in his house. His face haunted me ever since--awfullyhaunted me; and yet, although I felt certain that I had once seen itunder strange circumstances, I could not identify it with--but nomatter, no matter. I am waiting here for him. "

"Indeed!"--"Ay, that I am; and I flung a stone at you, not knowing you, with hope that you would be, by such means, perhaps, scared away, and soleave the coast clear for him. "

"Then you have an appointment with him?"--"By no means; but he has madesuch repeated and determined attacks upon this house that the family whoinhabited it were compelled to leave it, and I am here to watch him, andascertain what can possibly be his object. "

"It is as I suspected, then, " muttered this man. "Confound him! Now canI read, as if in a book, most clearly, the game that he is playing!"

"Can you?" cried the doctor, energetically--"can you? What is it? Tellme, for that is the very thing I want to discover. "--"You don't say so?"

"It is, indeed; and I assure you that it concerns the peace of a wholefamily to know it. You say you have made inquiries about thisneighbourhood, and, if you have done so, you have discovered how thefamily of the Bannerworths have been persecuted by Varney, and how, inparticular, Flora Bannerworth, a beautiful and intelligent girl, hasbeen most cruelly made to suffer. "

"I have heard all that, and I dare say with many exaggerations. "--"Itwould be difficult for any one really to exaggerate the horrors thathave taken place in this house, so that any information which you cangive respecting the motives of Varney will tend, probably, to restorepeace to those who have been so cruelly persecuted, and be an act ofkindness which I think not altogether inconsistent with your nature. "

"You think so, and yet know who I am. "--"I do, indeed. "

"And what I am. Why, if I were to go into the market-place of yon town, and proclaim myself, would not all shun me--ay, even the very lowest andvilest; and yet you talk of an act of kindness not being altogetherinconsistent with my nature!"--"I do, because I know something more ofyou than many. "

There was a silence of some moments' duration, and then the strangerspoke in a tone of voice which looked as it he were struggling with someemotion. 

"Sir, you do know more of me than many. You know what I have been, andyou know how I left an occupation which would have made me loathed. Butyou--even you--do not know what made me take to so terrible atrade. "--"I do not. "

"Would it suit you for me now to tell you?"--"Will you first promise methat you will do all you can for this persecuted family of theBannerworths, in whom I take so strange an interest?"

"I will. I promise you that freely. Of my own knowledge, of course, Ican say but little concerning them, but, upon that warranting, I wellbelieve they deserve abundant sympathy, and from me they shall have it. "

"A thousand thanks! With your assistance, I have little doubt of beingable to extricate them from the tangled web of dreadful incidents whichhas turned them from their home; and now, whatever you may choose totell me of the cause which drove you to be what you became, I shalllisten to with abundant interest. Only let me beseech you to come intothis summer-house, and to talk low. "

"I will, and you can pursue your watch at the same time, while I beguileits weariness. "--"Be it so. "

"You knew me years ago, when I had all the chances in the world ofbecoming respectable and respected. I did, indeed; and you may, therefore, judge of my surprise when, some years since, being in themetropolis, I met you, and you shunned my company. "--"Yes; but, at last, you found out why it was that I shunned your company. "

"I did. You yourself told me once that I met you, and would not leaveyou, but insisted upon your dining with me. Then you told me, when youfound that I would take no other course whatever, that you were no otherthan the--the----"--

"Out with it! I can bear to hear it now better than I could then! I toldyou that I was the common hangman of London!"

"You did, I must confess, to my most intense surprise. "

"Yes, and yet you kept to me; and, but that I respected you too much toallow you to do so, you would, from old associations, have countenancedme; but I could not, and I would not, let you do so. I told you thenthat, although I held the terrible office, that I had not been yetcalled upon to perform its loathsome functions. Soon--soon--come thefirst effort--it was the last!"

"Indeed! You left the dreadful trade?"

"I did--I did. But what I want to tell you, for I could not then, waswhy I went ever to it. The wounds my heart had received were then toofresh to allow me to speak of them, but I will tell you now. The storyis a brief one, Mr. Chillingworth. I pray you be seated. "

CHAPTER LXXII. 

THE STRANGE STORY. --THE ARRIVAL OF THE MOB AT THE HALL, AND THEIRDISPERSION. 

[Illustration]

"You will find that the time which elapsed since I last saw you inLondon, to have been spent in an eventful, varied manner. "--"You were ingood circumstances then, " said Mr. Chillingworth. --"I was, but manyevents happened after that which altered the prospect; made it even moregloomy than you can well imagine: but I will tell you all candidly, andyou can keep watch upon Bannerworth Hall at the same time. You are wellaware that I was well to do, and had ample funds, and inclination tospend them. "--"I recollect: but you were married then, surely?"--"Iwas, " said the stranger, sadly, "I was married then. "--"And now?"--"I ama widower. " The stranger seemed much moved, but, after a moment or so, he resumed--"I am a widower now; but how that event came about is partlymy purpose to tell you. I had not married long--that is very long--for Ihave but one child, and she is not old, or of an age to know much morethan what she may be taught; she is still in the course of education. Iwas early addicted to gamble; the dice had its charms, as all those whohave ever engaged in play but too well know; it is perfectlyfascinating. "--"So I have heard, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "though, formyself, I found a wife and professional pursuits quite incompatible withany pleasure that took either time or resources. "--

"It is so. I would I had never entered one of those houses where men aredeprived of their money and their own free will, for at thegambling-table you have no liberty, save that in gliding down the streamin company with others. How few have ever escaped destruction--none, Ibelieve--men are perfectly fascinated; it is ruin alone that enables aman to see how he has been hurried onwards without thought orreflection; and how fallacious were all the hopes he ever entertained!Yes, ruin, and ruin alone, can do this; but, alas! 'tis then toolate--the evil is done. Soon after my marriage I fell in with aChevalier St. John. He was a man of the world in every sense of theword, and one that was well versed in all the ways of society. I nevermet with any man who was so perfectly master of himself, and of perfectease and self-confidence as he was. He was never at a loss, and, comewhat would, never betrayed surprise or vexation--two qualities, hethought, never ought to be shown by any man who moved in society. "--

"Indeed!"--"He was a strange man--a very strange man. "--

"Did he gamble?"--

"It is difficult to give you a correct and direct answer. I should sayhe did, and yet he never lost or won much; but I have often thought hewas more connected with those who did than was believed. "--

"Was that a fact?" inquired Mr. Chillingworth. --

"You shall see as we go on, and be able to judge for yourself. I havethought he was. Well, he first took me to a handsome saloon, wheregambling was carried on. We had been to the opera. As we came out, herecommended that we should sup at a house where he was well known, andwhere he was in the habit of spending his evenings after the opera, andbefore he retired. I agreed to this. I saw no reason why I should not. We went there, and bitterly have I repented of so doing for years since, and do to this day. "--

"Your repentance has been sincere and lasting, " said Mr. Chillingworth;"the one proves the other. "--"It does; but I thought not so then. Theplace was glittering, and the wine good. It was a kind of earthlyparadise; and when we had taken some wine, the chevalier said to me, --

"'I am desirous of seeing a friend backwards; he is at the hazard-table. Will you go with me?'--I hesitated. I feared to see the place where avice was carried on. I knew myself inclined to prudential motives. Isaid to him, --'No, St. John, I'll wait here for you; it may be aswell--the wine is good, and it will content me?'

"'Do so, ' he said, smiling; 'but remember I seldom or never play myself, nor is there any reason why you should. '--'I'll go, but I will notplay. '--'Certainly not; you are free alike to look on, play, or quit theplace at any moment you please, and not be noticed, probably, by asingle soul. '

"I arose, and we walked backwards, having called one of the men who werewaiting about, but who were watchers and door-keepers of the 'hell. ' Wewere led along the passage, and passed through the pair of doors, whichwere well secured and rendered the possibility of a surprise almostimpossible. After these dark places, we were suddenly let into a placewhere we were dazzled by the light and brilliancy of the saloon. It wasnot so large as the one we left, but it was superior to it in all itsappointments. 

"At first I could not well see who was, or who was not, in the roomwhere we were. As soon, however, as I found the use of my eyes, Inoticed many well-dressed men, who were busily engaged in play, and whotook no notice of any one who entered. We walked about for some minuteswithout speaking to any one, but merely looking on. I saw men engaged inplay; some with earnestness, others again with great nonchalance, andmoney changed hands without the least remark. There were but few whospoke, and only those in play. There was a hum of conversation; but youcould not distinguish what was said, unless you paid some attention to, and was in close vicinity with, the individual who spoke. 

"'Well, ' said St. John, 'what do you think of this place?'--'Why, ' Ireplied, 'I had no notion of seeing a place fitted up as this is. '

"'No; isn't it superb?'--'It is beautifully done. They have manyvisitors, ' said I, 'many more than I could have believed. '

"'Yes, they are all _bona fide_ players; men of stamp and rank--none ofyour seedy legs who have only what they can cheat you outof. '--'Ah!'--'And besides, ' he added, 'you may often form friendshipshere that lead to fortune hereafter. I do not mean in play, becausethere is no necessity for your doing so, or, if you do so, in goingabove a stake which you know won't hurt you. '--'Exactly. '

"'Many men can never approach a table like this, and sit down to anhour's play, but, if they do, they must stake not only more than theycan afford, but all their property, leaving themselves beggars. ' 'Theydo?" said I. 

"'But men who know themselves, their resources, and choose to indulgefor a time, may often come and lay the foundation to a very prettyfortune. '

"'Do you see your friend?' I inquired. --'No, I do not; but I willinquire if he has been here--if not, we will go. '

"He left me for a moment or two to make some inquiry, and I stoodlooking at the table, where there were four players, and who seemed tobe engaged at a friendly game; and when one party won they looked grave, and when the other party lost they smiled and looked happy. I walkedaway, as the chevalier did not return immediately to me; and then I sawa gentleman rise up from a table. He had evidently lost. I was standingby the seat, unconsciously holding the back in my hand. I sat downwithout thinking or without speaking, and found myself at the hazardtable. 

"'Do you play, sir?'--'Yes, ' I said. I had hardly uttered the words whenI was sorry for them; but I could not recall them. I sat down, and playat once commenced. 

"In about ten or fifteen minutes, often losing and then winning, I foundmyself about a hundred and twenty pounds in pocket, clear gain by theplay. 

"'Ah!' said the chevalier, who came up at that moment, 'I thought youwouldn't play. '--'I really don't know how it happened, ' said I, 'but Isuddenly found myself here without any previous intention. '

"'You are not a loser, I hope?'--'Indeed I am not, ' I replied; 'but notmuch a gainer. '

"'Nor need you desire to be. Do you desire to give your adversary hisrevenge now, or take another opportunity. '--'At another time, ' Ireplied. 

"'You will find me here the day after to-morrow, when I shall be at yourservice;' then bowing, he turned away. 

"'He is a very rich man whom you have been playing with, ' said thechevalier. --"

"Indeed!"

"'Yes, and I have known him to lose for three days together; but you maytake his word for any amount; he is a perfect gentleman and man ofhonour. '--''Tis well to play with such, ' I replied; 'but I suppose youare about to leave. '

"'Yes, it grows late, and I have some business to transact to-morrow, soI must leave. '--'I will accompany you part of the way home, ' said I, 'and then I shall have finished the night. '

"I did leave with him, and accompanied him home, and then walked to myown home. "

 * * * * *

"This was my first visit, and I thought a propitious beginning, but itwas the more dangerous. Perhaps a loss might have effectually deterredme, but it is doubtful to tell how certain events might have beenaltered. It is just possible that I might have been urged on by mydesire to retrieve any loss I might have incurred, and so made myself atonce the miserable being it took months to accomplish in bringing me to. 

"I went the day but one after this, to meet the same individual at thegambling-table, and played some time with varied success, until I leftoff with a trifling loss upon the night's play, which was nothing of anyconsequence. 

[Illustration]

"Thus matters went on; I sometimes won and sometimes lost, until I won afew hundreds, and this determined me to play for higher stakes than anyI had yet played for. 

"It was no use going on in the peddling style I had been going on; I hadwon two hundred and fifty pounds in three months, and had I been lessfearful I might have had twenty-five thousand pounds. Ah! I'll try myfortune at a higher game. 

"Having once made this resolution, I was anxious to begin my new plan, which I hoped would have the effect of placing me far above my thenpresent position in society, which was good, and with a little attentionit would have made me an independent man; but then it required patience, and nothing more. However, the other method was so superior since itmight all be done with good luck in a few months. Ah! good luck; howuncertain is good luck; how changeful is fortune; how soon is the bestprospect blighted by the frosts of adversity. In less than a month I hadlost more than I could pay, and then I gambled on for a living. 

"My wife had but one child; her first and only one; an infant at herbreast; but there was a change came over her; for one had come overme--a fearful one it was too--one not only in manner but in fortune too. She would beg me to come home early; to attend to other matters, andleave the dreadful life I was then leading. 

"'Lizzy, ' said I, 'we are ruined. '--'Ruined!' she exclaimed, andstaggered back, until she fell into a seat. 'Ruined!'

"'Ay, ruined. It is a short word, but expressive. '--'No, no, we are notruined. I know what you mean, you would say, we cannot live as we havelived; we must retrench, and so we will, right willingly. '

"'You must retrench most wonderfully, ' I said, with desperate calmness, 'for the murder must out. '--'And so we will; but you will be with us;you will not go out night after night, ruining your health, ourhappiness, and destroying both peace and prospects. '

"'No, no, Lizzy, we have no chance of recovering ourselves; house andhome--all gone--all, all. '--'My God!' she exclaimed. 

"'Ay, rail on, ' said I; 'you have cause enough; but, no matter--we havelost all. '--'How--how?'

"'It is useless to ask how; I have done, and there is an end of thematter; you shall know more another day; we must leave this house for alodging. '--'It matters little, ' she said; 'all may be won again, if youwill but say you will quit the society of those who have ruined you. '

"'No one, ' said I, 'has ruined me; I did it; it was no fault of any oneelse's; I have not that excuse. '--'I am sure you can recover. '

"'I may; some day fortune will shower her favours upon me, and I live onin that expectation. '--'You cannot mean that you will chance thegaming-table? for I am sure you must have lost all there?'

"'I have. '--'God help me, ' she said; 'you have done your child a wrong, but you may repair it yet. '

"'Never!'--''Tis a long day! let me implore you, on my knees, to leavethis place, and adopt some other mode of life; we can be careful; alittle will do, and we shall, in time, be equal to, and better than whatwe have been. '

"'We never can, save by chance. '--'And by chance we never shall, ' shereplied; 'if you will exert yourself, we may yet retrieve ourselves. '

"'And exert myself I will. '--'And quit the gaming-table?'

"'Ask me to make no promises, ' said I; 'I may not be able to keep them;therefore, ask me to make none. '--'I do ask you, beg of, entreat of youto promise, and solemnly promise me that you will leave that fearfulplace, where men not only lose all their goods, but the feelings ofnature also. '

"'Say no more, Lizzy; if I can get a living elsewhere I will, but ifnot, I must get it there. '

"She seemed to be cast down at this, and she shed tears. I left theroom, and again went to the gambling-house, and there that night, I wona few pounds, which enabled me to take my wife and child away from thehouse they had so long lived in, and took them afterwards to a miserableplace, --one room, where, indeed, there were a few articles of furniturethat I had saved from the general wreck of my own property. 

"She took things much less to heart than I could have anticipated; sheseemed cheerful and happy, --she endeavoured to make my home ascomfortable as she could. 

"Her whole endeavour was to make me as much as possible, forget thepast. She wanted, as much as possible, to wean me away from my gamblingpursuits, but that was impossible. I had no hope, no other prospect. 

"Thus she strove, but I could see each day she was getting paler, andmore pale; her figure, before round, was more thin, and betrayed signsof emaciation. This preyed upon me; and, when fortune denied me themeans of carrying home that which she so much wanted, I could neverreturn for two days at a time. Then I would find her shedding tears, andsighing; what could I say? If I had anything to take her, then I used toendeavour to make her forget that I had been away. 

"'Ah!' she would exclaim, 'you will find me dead one of these days; whatyou do now for one or two days, you will do by-and-bye for many days, perhaps weeks. '--'Do not anticipate evil. '

"'I cannot do otherwise; were you in any other kind of employment butthat of gambling, ' she said, 'I should have some hope of you; but, as itis, there is none. '--'Speak not of it; my chances may turn outfavourable yet, and you may be again as you were. '

"'Never. '--'But fortune is inconstant, and may change in my favour asmuch as she has done in others. '

"'Fortune is indeed constant, but misfortune is as inconstant. '--'Youare prophetic of evil. "

"'Ah! I would to Heaven I could predict good; but who ever yet heard ofa ruined gambler being able to retrieve himself by the same means thathe was ruined?'

"Thus we used to converse, but our conversation was usually of butlittle comfort to either of us, for we could give neither any comfort tothe other; and as that was usually the case, our interviews became lessfrequent, and of less duration. My answer was always the same. 

"'I have no other chance; my prospects are limited to that one place;deprive me of that, and I never more should be able to bring you amouthful of bread. '

"Day after day, --day after day, the same result followed, and I was asfar from success as ever I was, and ever should be; I was yet a beggar. 

"The time flew by; my little girl was nearly four years old, but sheknew not the misery her father and mother had to endure. The poor littlething sometimes went without more than a meal a day; and while I wasliving thus upon the town, upon the chances of the gaming-table, many apang did she cause me, and so did her mother. My constant consolationwas this, --

"'It is bad luck now, ' I would say; 'but will be better by-and-bye;things cannot always continue thus. It is all for them--all for them. '

"I thought that by continuing constantly in one course, I must be atland at the ebb of the tide. 'It cannot always flow one way, ' I thought. I had often heard people say that if you could but have the resolutionto play on, you must in the end seize the turn of fortune. 

"'If I could but once do that, I would never enter a hell again as longas I drew breath. '

"This was a resolve I could not only make but keep, because I hadsuffered so much that I would never run through the same misery againthat I had already gone through. However, fortune never seemed inclinedto take the turn I had hoped for; fortune was as far off as ever, andhad in no case given me any opportunity of recovering myself. 

"A few pounds were the utmost I could at any time muster, and I had tokeep up something of an appearance, and seem as if I had a thousand ayear; when, God knows, I could not have mustered a thousandth part ofthat sum, were all done and paid for. 

"Day after day passed on, and yet no change. I had almost given myselfup to despair, when one night when I went home I saw my wife was morethan usually melancholy and sad, and perhaps ill; I didn't look ather--I seldom did, because her looks were always a reproach to me; Icould not help feeling them so. 

"'Well, ' said I, 'I have come home to you because I have something tobring you; not what I ought--but what I can--you must be satisfied!'--'Iam, ' she said. 

"'I know also you want it; how is the child, is she quite well?'--'Yes, quite. '

"'Where is she?' inquired I, looking round the room, but I didn't seeher; she used to be up. --'She has gone to bed, ' she said. 

"'It is very early. '--'Yes, but she cried so for food that I was obligedto get her to sleep to forget her hunger: poor thing, she has wantedbread very badly. '

"'Poor thing!' I said, 'let her be awakened and partake of what I havebrought home. '

"With that my wife waked her up, and the moment she opened her eyes sheagain began to cry for food, which I immediately gave her and saw herdevour with the utmost haste and hunger. The sight smote my heart, andmy wife sat by watching, and endeavouring to prevent her from eating sofast. 

"'This is bad, ' I said. --'Yes, but I hope it may be the worst, ' shereplied, in a deep and hollow voice. 

"'Lizzy, ' I exclaimed, 'what is the matter--are you ill?'--'Yes, veryill. '

"'What is the matter with you? For God's sake tell me, ' I said, for Iwas alarmed. --'I am very ill, ' she said, 'very ill indeed; I feel mystrength decreasing every day. I must drink. '

"You, too, want food?'--'I have and perhaps do, though the desire to eatseems almost to have left me. '

"'For Heaven's sake eat, ' said I; 'I will bring you home something moreby to-morrow; eat and drink Lizzy. I have suffered; but for you and yourchild's sake, I will do my best. '--'Your best, ' she said, 'will kill usboth; but, alas, there is no other aid at hand. You may one day, however, come here too late to find us living. '

"'Say no more, Lizzy, you know not my feelings when you speak thus;alas, I have no hope--no aid--no friend. '--'No, ' she replied, 'your loveof gaming drove them from you, because they would not aid a gambler. '

"'Say no more, Lizzy, ' I said; 'if there be not an end to this lifesoon, there will be an end to me. In two days more I shall return toyou. Good bye; God bless you. Keep up your heart and the child. '--'Goodbye, ' she said, sorrowfully. She shed tears, and wrung her handsbitterly. I hastened away--my heart was ready to burst, and I could notspeak. 

"I walked about to recover my serenity, but could not do so sufficientlywell to secure anything like an appearance that would render me fit togo to the gaming-house. That night I remained away, but I could notavoid falling into a debauch to drown my misfortunes, and shift thescene of misery that was continually before my eyes. "

 * * * * *

"The next night I was at the gaming-house. I went there in better thanusual spirits. I saw, I thought, a change in fortune, and hailed that asthe propitious moment of my life, when I was to rise above my presentmisfortunes. 

"I played and won--played and lost--played and won, and then lost again;thus I went on, fluctuating more and more, until I found I was gettingmoney in my pocket. I had, at one moment more than three hundred poundsin my pocket, and I felt that then was my happy moment--then the tide offortune was going in my favour. I ought to have left off with that--tohave been satisfied with such an amount of money; but the demon ofavarice seemed to have possessed me, and I went on and on withfluctuating fortune, until I lost the whole of it. 

"I was mad--desperate, and could have destroyed myself; but I thought ofthe state my wife and child were in; I thought that that night theywould want food; but they could not hurt for one day--they must havesome, or would procure some. 

"I was too far gone to be able to go to them, even if I were possessedof means; but I had none, and daylight saw me in a deep sleep, fromwhich I awoke not until the next evening let in, and then I once moredetermined that I would make a desperate attempt to get a little money. I had always paid, and thought my word would be taken for once; and, ifI won, all well and good; if not, then I was no worse off than before. 

"This was easy to plan, but not to execute. I went there, but there werenone present in whom I had sufficient interest to dare make the attempt. I walked about, and felt in a most uncomfortable state. I feared Ishould not succeed at all, then what was to become of me--of my wife andchild? This rendered me almost mad. I could not understand what I was todo, what to attempt, or where to go. One or two persons came up, andasked me if I were ill. My answers were, that I was well enough. GoodGod! how far from the truth was that; but I found I must place morecontrol on my feelings, else I should cause much conversation, and thenI should lose all hope of recovering myself, and all prospect of living, even. 

"At length some one did come in, and I remarked I had been there all theevening and had not played. I had an invitation to play with him, whichended, by a little sleight of hand, in my favour; and on that I hadcalculated as much as on any good fortune I might meet. The person Iplayed with observed it not, and, when we left off playing, I had somesix or seven pounds in pocket. This, to me, was a very great sum; and, the moment I could decently withdraw myself, I ran off home. 

"I was fearful of the scene that awaited me. I expected something; worsethan I had yet seen. Possibly Lizzy might be angry, and scold as wellas complain. I therefore tapped at the door gently, but heard no oneanswer; but of this I took no notice, as I believed that they might be, and were, most probably, fast asleep. I had provided myself with alight, and I therefore opened the door, which was not fastened. 

"'Lizzy!' said I, 'Lizzy!' There was no answer given, and I paused. Everything was as still as death. I looked on the bed--there lay my wifewith her clothes on. 

"'Lizzy! Lizzy!' said I. But still she did not answer me. 

"'Well, ' said I, 'she sleeps sound;' and I walked towards the bed, andplaced my hand upon her shoulder, and began to shake her, saying, as Idid so, --

"'Lizzy! Lizzy! I'm come home. ' But still no answer, or signs ofawaking. 

"I went on the other side of the bed to look at her face, and somemisgivings overtook me. I trembled much. She lay on the bed, with herback towards the spot where I stood. 

"I came towards her face. My hand shook violently as I endeavoured tolook at her. She had her eyes wide open, as if staring at me. 

"'Lizzy, ' said I. No answer was returned. I then placed my hand upon hercheek. It was enough, and I started back in great horror. She was dead!

"This was horror itself. I staggered back and fell into a chair. Thelight I placed down, Heaven knows how or why; but there I sat staring atthe corpse of my unfortunate wife. I can hardly tell you the tremendouseffect this had upon me. I could not move. I was fascinated to the spot. I could not move and could not turn. "

 * * * * *

"It was morning, and the rays of the sun illumined the apartment; butthere sat I, still gazing upon the face of my unfortunate wife, I saw, Iknew she was dead; but yet I had not spoken, but sat looking at her. 

"I believe my heart was as cold as she was; but extreme horror and dreadhad dried up all the warm blood in my body, and I hardly think there wasa pulsation left. The thoughts of my child never once seemed to cross mymind. I had, however, sat there long--some hours before I wasdiscovered, and this was by the landlady. 

"I had left the door open behind me, and she, in passing down, had thecuriosity to peep, and saw me sitting in what she thought to be a verystrange attitude, and could hear no sounds. 

"After some time she discovered my wife was dead, and, for some time, she thought me so, too. However, she was convinced to the contrary, andthen began to call for assistance. This awoke the child, which wasnearly famished. The landlady, to become useful, and to awaken me frommy lethargy, placed the child in my hands, telling me I was the bestperson now to take care of it. 

"And so I was; there was no doubt of the truth of that, and I wascompelled to acknowledge it. I felt much pride and pleasure in mydaughter, and determined she should, if I starved, have the benefit ofall I could do for her in the way of care, &c. "

 * * * * *

"The funeral over, I took my child and carried it to a school, where Ileft her, and paid in advance, promising to do so as often as thequarter came round. My wife I had seen buried by the hands of man, and Iswore I would do the best for my child, and to keep this oath was a workof pleasure. 

"I determined also I would never more enter a gaming-house, be theextremity what it might; I would suffer even death before I would permitmyself to enter the house in which it took place. 

"'I will, ' I thought, 'obtain some employment of some kind or other. Icould surely obtain that. I have only to ask and I have it, surely--something, however menial, that would keep me and my child. Yes, yes--she ought, she must have her charges paid at once. "

"The effect of my wife's death was a very great shock to me, and such aone I could not forget--one I shall ever remember, and one that at leastmade a lasting impression upon me. "

 * * * * *

"Strange, but true, I never entered a gambling-house; it was my horrorand my aversion. And yet I could obtain no employment. I took mydaughter and placed her at a boarding-school, and tried hard to obtainbread by labour; but, do what would, none could be had; if my souldepended upon it, I could find none. I cared not what it was--anythingthat was honest. 

"I was reduced low--very low; gaunt starvation showed itself in mycheeks; but I wandered about to find employment; none could be found, and the world seemed to have conspired together to throw me back to thegaming-table. 

"But this I would not. At last employment was offered; but what was it?The situation of common hangman was offered me. The employment wasdisgusting and horrible; but, at the same time, it was all I could get, and that was a sufficient inducement for me to accept of it. I was, therefore, the common executioner; and in that employment for some timeearned a living. It was terrible; but necessity compelled me to acceptthe only thing I could obtain. You now know the reason why I became whatI have told you. "

CHAPTER LXXIII. 

THE VISIT OF THE VAMPIRE. --THE GENERAL MEETING. 

[Illustration]

The mysterious friend of Mr. Chillingworth finished his narrative, andthen the doctor said to him, --

"And that, then, is the real cause why you, a man evidently far abovethe position of life which is usually that of those who occupy thedreadful post of executioner, came to accept of it. "--"The real reason, sir. I considered, too, that in holding such a humiliating situationthat I was justly served for the barbarity of which I had been guilty;for what can be a greater act of cruelty than to squander, as I did, inthe pursuit of mad excitement, those means which should have rendered myhome happy, and conduced to the welfare of those who were dependant uponme?"

"I do not mean to say that your self-reproaches are unjust altogether, but--What noise is that? do you hear anything?"--

"Yes--yes. "

"What do you take it to be?"--"It seemed like the footsteps of a numberof persons, and it evidently approaches nearer and nearer. I know notwhat to think. "

"Shall I tell you?" said a deep-toned voice, and some one, through theorifice in the back of the summer-house, which, it will be recollected, sustained some damage at the time that Varney escaped from it, laid ahand upon Mr. Chillingworth's shoulder. "God bless me!" exclaimed thedoctor; "who's that?" and he sprang from his seat with the greatestperturbation in the world. 

"Varney, the vampyre!" added the voice, and then both the doctor and hiscompanion recognised it, and saw the strange, haggard features, that nowthey knew so well, confronting them. There was a pause of surprise, fora moment or two, on the part of the doctor, and then he said, "SirFrancis Varney, what brings you here? I conjure you to tell me, in thename of common justice and common feeling, what brings you to this houseso frequently? You have dispossessed the family, whose property it is, of it, and you have caused great confusion and dismay over a wholecounty. I implore you now, not in the language of menace or as an enemy, but as the advocate of the oppressed, and one who desires to see justicedone to all, to tell me what it is you require. "

"There is no time now for explanation, " said Varney, "if explanationswere my full and free intent. You wished to know what noise was that youheard?"

"I did; can you inform me?"--"I can. The wild and lawless mob which youand your friends first induced to interfere in affairs far beyond theiror your control, are now flushed with the desire of riot and of plunder. The noise you hear is that of their advancing footsteps; they come todestroy Bannerworth Hall. "

"Can that be possible? The Bannerworth family are the sufferers from allthat has happened, and not the inflictors of suffering. "--"Ay, be it so;but he who once raises a mob has raised an evil spirit, which, in themajority of cases, it requires a far more potent spell than he is masterof to quell again. "

"It is so. That is a melancholy truth; but you address me, Sir FrancisVarney, as if I led on the mob, when in reality I have done all that layin my power, from the very first moment of their rising on account ofthis affair, which, in the first instance, was your work, to preventthem from proceeding to acts of violence. "--"It may be so; but if youhave now any regard for your own safety you will quit this place. Itwill too soon become the scene of a bloody contention. A large party ofdragoons are even now by another route coming towards it, and it will betheir duty to resist the aggressions of the mob; then should the rioterspersevere, you can guess the result. "--"I can, indeed. "

"Retire then while you may, and against the bad deeds of Sir FrancisVarney at all events place some of his good ones, that he may not seemwholly without one redeeming trait. "--"I am not accustomed, " said thedoctor, "to paint the devil blacker than he really is; but yet the cruelpersecutions that the Bannerworth family have endured call aloud forjustice. You still, with a perseverance which shows you regardless ofwhat others suffer so that you compass your own ends, hover round a spotwhich you have rendered desolate. "

"Hark, sir; do you not hear the tramp of horses' feet?"--"I do. "

The noise made by the feet of the insurgents was now almost drowned inthe louder and more rapid tramp of the horses' feet of the advancingdragoons, and, in a few moments more, Sir Francis Varney waved his arm, exclaiming, --

"They are here. Will you not consult your safety by flight?"--"No, " saidMr. Chillingworth's companion; "we prefer remaining here at the riskeven of whatever danger may accrue to us. "

"Fools, would you die in a chance _melee_ between an infuriated populaceand soldiery?"--"Do not leave, " whispered the ex-hangman to Mr. Chillingworth; "do not leave, I pray you. He only wants to have the Hallto himself. "

There could be no doubt now of the immediate appearance of the cavalry, and, before Sir Francis Varney could utter another word, a couple of theforemost of the soldiers cleared the garden fence at a part where it waslow, and alighted not many feet from the summer-house in which thisshort colloquy was taking place. Sir Francis Varney uttered a bitteroath, and immediately disappeared in the gloom. 

"What shall we do?" said the hangman. --"You can do what you like, but Ishall avow my presence to the military, and claim to be on their side inthe approaching contest, if it should come to one, which I sincerelyhope it will not. "

The military detachment consisted of about twenty-five dragoons, who nowwere all in the gardens. An order was given by the officer in commandfor them to dismount, which was at once obeyed, and the horses werefastened by their bridles to the various trees with which the placeabounded. 

"They are going to oppose the mob on foot, with their carbines, " saidthe hangman; "there will be sad work here I am afraid. "--"Well, at allevents, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "I shall decline acting the part of aspy here any longer; so here goes. "

"Hilloa! a friend, --a friend here, in the summer-house!"

"Make it two friends, " cried the hangman, "if you please, while you areabout it. "

A couple of the dragoons immediately appeared, and the doctor, with hiscompanion, were marched, as prisoners, before the officer in command. 

"What do you do here?" he said; "I was informed that the Hall wasdeserted. Here, orderly, where is Mr. Adamson, the magistrate, who camewith me?"--"Close at hand sir, and he says he's not well. "

"Well, or ill, he must come here, and do something with these people. "

A magistrate of the district who had accompanied the troops, and beenaccommodated with a seat behind one of the dragoons, which seemed verymuch to have disagreed with him, for he was as pale as death, nowstepped forward. 

"You know me, Mr. Adamson?" said the doctor; "I am Mr. Chillingworth. "--"Oh! yes; Lord bless you! how came you here?"

"Never mind that just now; you can vouch for my having no connectionwith the rioters. "--"Oh! dear, yes; certainly. This is a respectablegentleman, Captain Richardson, and a personal friend of mine. "

"Oh! very good. "--"And I, " said the doctor's companion, "am likewise arespectable and useful member of society, and a great friend of Mr. Chillingworth. "

"Well, gentlemen, " said the captain in command, "you may remain here, ifyou like, and take the chances, or you may leave. "

They intimated that they preferred remaining, and, almost at the momentthat they did so, a loud shout from many throats announced the nearapproach of the mob. --"Now, Mr. Magistrate, if you please, " said theofficer; "you will be so good as to tell the mob that I am here with mytroop, under your orders, and strongly advise them to be off while theycan, with whole skins, for if they persevere in attacking the place, wemust persevere in defending it; and, if they have half a grain of senseamong them, they can surely guess what the result of that will be. "

"I will do the best I can, as Heaven is, my judge, " said the magistrate, "to produce a peaceable recall, --more no man can do. "

"Hurrah! hurrah!"' shouted the mob, "down with the Vampyre! down withthe Hall!" and then one, more candid than his fellows, shouted, --"Downwith everything and everybody!"

"Ah!" remarked the officer; "that fellow now knows what he came about. "

A great number of torches and links were lighted by the mob, but themoment the glare of light fell upon the helmets and accoutrements of themilitary, there was a pause of consternation on the part of themultitude, and Mr. Adamson, urged on by the officer, who, it wasevident, by no means liked the service he was on, took advantage of theopportunity, and, stepping forward, he said, --

"My good people, and fellow townsmen, let me implore you to listen toreason, and go to your homes in peace. If you do not, but, on thecontrary, in defiance of law and good order, persist in attacking thishouse, it will become my painful duty to read the riot act, and then themilitary and you will have to fight it out together, which I beg youwill avoid, for you know that some of you will be killed, and a lot moreof you receive painful wounds. Now disperse, let me beg of you, atonce. "

There seemed for a moment a disposition among the mob to give up thecontest, but there were others among them who were infuriated withdrink, and so regardless of all consequences. Those set up a shout of"Down with the red coats; we are Englishmen, and will do what we like. "Some one then threw a heavy stone, which struck one of the soldiers, andbrought blood from his cheek. The officer saw it, but he said at once, --

"Stand firm, now, stand firm. No anger--steady. "

"Twenty pounds for the man who threw that stone, " said themagistrate. --"Twenty pound ten for old Adamson, the magistrate, " cried avoice in the crowd, which, no doubt came from him who had cast themissile. 

Then, at least fifty stones were thrown, some of which hit themagistrate, and the remainder came rattling upon the helmets of thedragoons, like a hail shower. 

"I warn you, and beg of you to go, " said Mr. Adamson; "for the sake ofyour wives and families, I beg of you not to pursue this desperategame. "

Loud cries now arose of "Down with the soldiers; down with the vampyre. He's in Bannerworth Hall. Smoke him out. " And then one or two links werehurled among the dismounted dragoons. All this was put up withpatiently; and then again the mob were implored to leave, which beinganswered by fresh taunts, the magistrate proceeded to read the riot act, not one word of which was audible amid the tumult that prevailed. 

"Put out all the lights, " cried a voice among the mob. The order wasobeyed, and the same voice added; "they dare not fire on us. Come on:"and a rush was made at the garden wall. 

"Make ready--present, " cried the officer. And then he added, in an undertone, "above their heads, now--fire. "

There was a blaze of light for a moment, a stunning noise, a shout ofdismay from the mob, and in another moment all was still. 

"There, " said Dr. Chillingworth, "that this is, at all events, abloodless victory. "

"You may depend upon that, " said his companion; "but is not there someone yet remaining? Look there, do you not see a figure clambering overthe fence?"

"Yes, I do, indeed. Ah, they have him a prisoner, at all events. Thosetwo dragoons have him, fast enough; we shall now, perhaps, hear fromthis fellow who is the actual ringleader in such an affair, which, butfor the pusillanimity of the mob, might have turned out to be reallymost disastrous. "

It was strange how one man should think it expedient to attack themilitary post after the mob had been so completely routed at the firstdischarge of fire-arms, but so it was. One man did make an attempt toenter the garden, and it was so rapid and so desperate an one, that herather seemed to throw himself bodily at the fence, which separated itfrom the meadows without, than to clamber over it, as any one underordinary circumstances, who might wish to effect an entrance by thatmeans, would have done. 

He was no sooner, however, perceived, than a couple of the dismountedsoldiers stepped forward and made a prisoner of him. 

"Good God!" exclaimed Mr. Chillingworth, as they approached nearer withhim. "Good God! what is the meaning of that? Do my eyes deceive me, orare they, indeed, so blessed?"

"Blessed by what?" exclaimed the hangman. 

"By a sight of the long lost, deeply regretted Charles Holland. Charles--Charles, is that indeed you, or some unsubstantial form in yourlikeness?"

Charles Holland, for it was, indeed, himself, heard the friendly voiceof the doctor, and he called out to him. 

"Speak to me of Flora. Oh, speak to me of Flora, if you would not haveme die at once of suspense, and all the torture of apprehension. "

"She lives and is well. "

"Thank Heaven. Do with me what you please. "

Dr. Chillingworth sprang forward, and addressing the magistrate, hesaid, --

"Sir, I know this gentleman. He is no one of the rioters, but a dearfriend of the family of the Bannerworths. Charles Holland, what in thename of Heaven had become of you so long, and what brought you here atsuch a juncture as this?"

"I am faint, " said Charles; "I--I only arrived as the crowd did. I hadnot strength to fight my way through them, and was compelled to pauseuntil they had dispersed Can--can you give me water?"

"Here's something better, " said one of the soldiers, as he handed aflask to Charles, who partook of some of the contents, which greatlyrevived him, indeed. 

"I am better now, " he said. "Thank you kindly. Take me into the house. Good God! why is it made a point of attack? Where are Flora and Henry?Are they all well? And my uncle? Oh! what must you all have thought ofmy absence! But you cannot have endured a hundredth part of what I havesuffered. Let me look once again upon the face of Flora. Take me intothe house. "

"Release him, " said the officer, as he pointed to his head, and lookedsignificantly, as much as to say, "Some mad patient of yours, Isuppose. "

"You are much mistaken, sir, " said Dr. Chillingworth; "this gentlemanhas been cruelly used, I have no doubt. He has, I am inclined tobelieve, been made the victim, for a time, of the intrigues of that verySir Francis Varney, whose conduct has been the real cause of all theserious disturbances that have taken place in the country. "

"Confound Sir Francis Varney, " muttered the officer; "he is enough toset a whole nation by the ears. However, Mr. Magistrate, if you aresatisfied that this young man is not one of the rioters, I have, ofcourse, no wish to hold him a prisoner. "

"I can take Mr. Chillingworth's word for more than that, " said themagistrate. 

Charles Holland was accordingly released, and then the doctor, inhurried accents, told him the principal outlines of what had occurred. 

"Oh! take me to Flora, " he said; "let me not delay another moment inseeking her, and convincing her that I could not have been guilty of thebaseness of deserting her. "

"Hark you, Mr. Holland, I have quite made up my mind that I will notleave Bannerworth Hall yet; but you can go alone, and easily find themby the directions which I will give you; only let me beg of you not togo abruptly into the presence of Flora. She is in an extremely delicatestate of health, and although I do not take upon myself to say that ashock of a pleasurable nature would prove of any paramount badconsequence to her, yet it is as well not to risk it. "

"I will be most careful, you may depend. "

At this moment there was a loud ringing at the garden bell, and, when itwas answered by one of the dragoons, who was ordered to do so by hisofficer, he came back, escorting no other than Jack Pringle, who hadbeen sent by the admiral to the Hall, but who had solaced himself somuch on the road with divers potations, that he did not reach it tillnow, which was a full hour after the reasonable time in which he oughtto have gone the distance. 

[Illustration]

Jack was not to say dumb, but he had had enough to give him a very jollysort of feeling of independence, and so he came along quarrelling withthe soldier all the way, the latter only laughing and keeping his temperadmirably well, under a great deal of provocation. 

"Why, you land lubbers, " cried Jack, "what do you do here, all of you, Iwonder! You are all wamphighers, I'll be bound, every one of you. Youmind me of marines, you do, and that's quite enough to turn a properseaman's stomach, any day in the week. "

The soldier only laughed, and brought Jack up to the little group ofpersons consisting of Dr. Chillingworth, the hangman, Charles Holland, and the officer. 

"Why, Jack Pringle, " said Dr. Chillingworth, stepping before Charles, sothat Jack should not see him, --"why, Jack Pringle, what brings youhere?"

"A slight squall, sir, to the nor'west. Brought you something to eat. "

Jack produced a bottle. 

"To drink, you mean?"

"Well, it's all one; only in this here shape, you see, it goes downbetter, I'm thinking, which does make a little difference somehow. "

"How is the admiral?"

"Oh, he's as stupid as ever; Lord bless you, he'd be like a ship withouta rudder without me, and would go swaying about at the mercy of windsand waves, poor old man. He's bad enough as it is, but if so be I wasn'tto give the eye to him as I does, bless my heart if I thinks as he'd beabove hatches long. Here's to you all. "

Jack took the cork from the bottle he had with him, and there came fromit a strong odour of rum. Then he placed it to his lips, and wasenjoying the pleasant gurgle of the liquor down his throat, when Charlesstepped up to him, and laying hold of the lower end of the bottle, hedragged it from his mouth, saying, --

"How dare you talk in the way you have of my uncle, you drunken, mutinous rascal, and behind his back too!"

The voice of Charles Holland was as well known to Jack Pringle as thatof the admiral, and his intense astonishment at hearing himself sosuddenly addressed by one, of whose proximity he had not the least idea, made some of the rum go, what is popularly termed, the wrong way, andnearly choked him. 

He reeled back, till he fell over some obstruction, and then down he saton a flower bed, while his eyes seemed ready to come out of his head. 

"Avast heavings, " he cried, "Who's that?"

"Come, come, " said Charles Holland, "don't pretend you don't know me; Iwill not have my uncle spoken of in a disrespectful manner by you. "

"Well, shiver my timbers, if that ain't our nevey. Why, Charley, my boy, how are you? Here we are in port at last. Won't the old commodore pipehis eye, now. Whew! here's a go. I've found our nevey, after all. "

"You found him, " said Dr. Chillingworth; "now, that is as great a pieceof impudence as ever I heard in all my life. You mean that he has foundyou, and found you out, too, you drunken fellow. Jack, you get worse andworse every day. "

"Ay, ay, sir. "

"What, you admit it?"

"Ay, ay, sir. Now, Master Charley, I tell you what it is, I shall takeyou off to your old uncle, you shore going sneak and you'll have toreport what cruise you've been upon all this while, leaving the ship tolook after itself. Lord love you all, if it hadn't been for me I don'tknow what anybody would have done. "

"I only know of the result, " said Dr Chillingworth, "that would ensue, if it were not for you, and that would consist in a great injury to therevenue, in consequence of the much less consumption of rum and otherstrong liquors. "

"I'll be hanged up at the yard if I understands what you mean, " saidJack; "as if I ever drunk anything--I, of all people in the world. I amashamed of you. You are drunk. "

Several of the dragoons had to turn aside to keep themselves fromlaughing, and the officer himself could not forbear from a smile as besaid to the doctor, --

"Sir, you seem to have many acquaintances, and by some means or anotherthey all have an inclination to come here to-night. If, however, youconsider that you are bound to remain here from a feeling that the Hallis threatened with any danger, you may dismiss that fear, for I shallleave a picquet here all night. "

"No, sir, " replied Dr. Chillingworth, "it is not that I fear now, afterthe manner in which they have been repulsed, any danger to the Hall fromthe mob; but I have reasons for wishing to be in it or near it for sometime to come. "

"As you please. "

"Charles, do not wait for or accept the guidance of that drunken fellow, but go yourself with a direction which I will write down for you in aleaf of my pocket-book. "

"Drunken fellow, " exclaimed Jack, who had now scrambled to his feet, "who do you call a drunken fellow?"

"Why you, unquestionably. "

"Well, now, that is hard. Come along, nevey; I'll shew you where theyall are. I could walk a plank on any deck with any man in the service, Icould. Come along, my boy, come along. "

"You can accept of him as a guide if you like, of course, " said thedoctor; "he may be sober enough to conduct you. "

"I think he can, " said Charles. "Lead on, Jack; but mark me, I shallinform my uncle of this intemperance, as well as of the manner in whichyou let your tongue wag about him behind his back, unless you promise toreform. "

"He is long past all reformation, " remarked Dr. Chillingworth; "it isout of the question. "

"And I am afraid my uncle will not have courage to attempt such anungrateful task, when there is so little chance of success, " repliedCharles Holland, shaking the worthy doctor by the hand. "Farewell, forthe present, sir; the next time I see you, I hope we shall both be morepleasantly situated. "

"Come along, nevey, " interrupted Jack Pringle; "now you've found yourway back, the first thing you ought to do, is to report yourself ashaving come aboard. Follow me, and I'll soon show yer the port where theold hulk's laid hisself up. "

Jack walked on first, tolerably steady, if one may take into account hisdivers deep potations, and Charles Holland, anticipating with delightagain looking upon the face of his much loved Flora, followed closelybehind him. 

We can well imagine the world of delightful thoughts that came crowdingupon him when Jack, after rather a long walk, announced that they werenow very near the residence of the object of his soul's adoration. 

We trust that there is not one of our readers who, for one moment, willsuppose that Charles Holland was the sort of man to leave even such avillain and double-faced hypocrite as Marchdale, to starve amid thegloomy ruins where he was immured. 

Far from Charles's intentions was any such thing; but he did think thata night passed there, with no other company than his own reflections, would do him a world of good, and was, at all events, no very greatmodicum of punishment for the rascality with which he had behaved. 

Besides, even during that night there were refreshments in the shape ofbread and water, such as had been presented to Charles himself, withinMarchdale's reach as they had been within his. 

That individual now, Charles thought, would have a good opportunity oftesting the quality of that kind of food, and of finding out what anextremely light diet it was for a strong man to live upon. 

But in the morning it was Charles's intention to take Henry Bannerworthand the admiral with him to the ruins, and then and there release thewretch from his confinement, on condition that he made a full confessionof his villanies before those persons. 

Oh, how gladly would Marchdale have exchanged the fate which actuallybefell him for any amount of personal humiliation, always provided thatit brought with it a commensurate amount of personal safety. 

But that fate was one altogether undreamt of by Charles Holland, andwholly without his control. 

It was a fate which would have been his, but for the murderous purposewhich had brought Marchdale to the dungeon, and those happy accidentswhich had enabled Charles to change places with him, and breathe thefree, cool, fresh air; while he left his enemy loaded with the samechains that had encumbered his limbs so cruelly, and lying on that samedamp dungeon floor, which he thought would be his grave. 

We mentioned that as Charles left the ruins, the storm, which had beengiving various indications of its coming, seemed to be rapidlyapproaching. 

It was one of these extremely local tempests which expend all theirprincipal fury over a small space of country; and, in this instance, thespace seemed to include little more than the river, and the few meadowswhich immediately surrounded it, and lent it so much of its beauty. 

Marchdale soon found that his cries were drowned by the louder voices ofthe elements. The wailing of the wind among the ancient ruins was muchmore full of sound than his cries; and, now and then, the full-mouthedthunder filled the air with such a volume of roaring, and awakened somany echoes among the ruins, that, had he possessed the voices of fiftymen, he could not have hoped to wage war with it. 

And then, although we know that Charles Holland would have encountereddeath himself, rather than he would have willingly left anything humanto expire of hunger in that dungeon, yet Marchdale, judging of others byhimself, felt by no means sure of any such thing, and, in his horror ofapprehension, fancied that that was just the sort of easy, and pleasant, and complete revenge that it was in Charles Holland's power to take, andjust the one which would suggest itself, under the circumstances, to hismind. 

Could anything be possibly more full of horror than such a thought?Death, let it come in any shape it may, is yet a most repulsive andunwelcome guest; but, when it comes, so united with all that can add toits terrors, it is enough to drive reason from its throne, and fill themind with images of absolute horror. 

Tired of shrieking, for his parched lips and clogged tongue wouldscarcely now permit him to utter a sound higher than a whisper. Marchdale lay, listening to the furious storm without, in the lastabandonment of despair. 

"Oh! what a death is this, " he groaned. "Here, alone--all alone--andstarvation to creep on me by degrees, sapping life's energies one byone. Already do I feel the dreadful sickening weakness growing on me. Help, oh! help me Heav--no, no! Dare I call on Heaven to help me? Isthere no fiend of darkness who now will bid me a price for a human soul?Is there not one who will do so--not one who will rescue me from thehorror that surrounds me, for Heaven will not? I dare not ask mercythere. "

The storm continued louder and louder. The wind, it is true, was nearlyhushed, but the roar and the rattle of the echo-awakening thunder fullymade up for its cessation, while, now and then, even there, in thatunderground abode, some sudden reflection of the vivid lightning's lightwould find its way, lending, for a fleeting moment, sufficient light toMarchdale, wherewith he could see the gloomy place in which he was. 

At times he wept, and at times he raved, while ever and anon he madesuch frantic efforts to free himself from the chains that were aroundhim, that, had they not been strong, he must have succeeded; but, as itwas, he only made deep indentations into his flesh, and gave himselfmuch pain. 

"Charles Holland!" he shouted; "oh! release me! Varney! Varney! why doyou not come to save me? I have toiled for you most unrequitedly--I havenot had my reward. Let it all consist in my release from this dreadfulbondage. Help! help! oh, help!"

There was no one to hear him. The storm continued, and now, suddenly, asudden and a sharper sound than any awakened by the thunder's roar cameupon his startled ear, and, in increased agony, he shouted, --

"What is that? oh! what is that? God of heaven, do my fears translatethat sound aright? Can it be, oh! can it be, that the ruins which havestood for so many a year are now crumbling down before the storm ofto-night?"

The sound came again, and he felt the walls of the dungeon in which hewas shake. Now there could be no doubt but that the lightning had strucksome part of the building, and so endangered the safety of all that wasabove ground. For a moment there came across his brain such a rush ofagony, that he neither spoke nor moved. Had that dreadful feelingcontinued much longer, he must have lapsed into insanity; but thatamount of mercy--for mercy it would have been--was not shown to him. Hestill felt all the accumulating horrors of his situation, and then, withsuch shrieks as nothing but a full appreciation of such horrors couldhave given him strength to utter, he called upon earth, upon heaven andupon all that was infernal, to save him from his impending doom. 

All was in vain. It was an impending doom which nothing but the directinterposition of Heaven could have at all averted; and it was not likelythat any such perversion of the regular laws of nature would take placeto save such a man as Marchdale. 

Again came the crashing sound of falling stones, and he was certain thatthe old ruins, which had stood for so many hundred years the storm, andthe utmost wrath of the elements, was at length yielding, and crumblingdown. 

What else could he expect but to be engulphed among thefragments--fragments still weighty and destructive, although in decay. How fearfully now did his horrified imagination take in at one glance, as it were, a panoramic view of all his past life, and how absolutelycontemptible, at that moment, appeared all that he had been strivingfor. 

But the walls shake again, and this time the vibration is more fearfulthan before. There is a tremendous uproar above him--the roof yields tosome superincumbent pressure--there is one shriek, and Marchdale liescrushed beneath a mass of masonry that it would take men and machinerydays to remove from off him. 

All is over now. That bold, bad man--that accomplished hypocrite--thatmendacious, would-be murderer was no more. He lies but a mangled, crushed, and festering corpse. 

May his soul find mercy with his God!

The storm, from this moment, seemed to relax in its violence, as if ithad accomplished a great purpose, and, consequently, now, need no longer"vex the air with its boisterous presence. " Gradually the thunder diedaway in the distance. The wind no longer blew in blustrous gusts, but, with a gentle murmuring, swept around the ancient pile, as if singingthe requiem of the dead that lay beneath--that dead which mortal eyeswere never to look upon. 

CHAPTER LXXIV. 

THE MEETING OF CHARLES AND FLORA. 

[Illustration]

Charles Holland followed Jack Pringle for some time in silence fromBannerworth Hall; his mind was too full of thought concerning the pastto allow him to indulge in much of that kind of conversation in whichJack Pringle might be fully considered to be a proficient. 

As for Jack, somehow or another, he had felt his dignity offended in thegarden of Bannerworth Hall, and he had made up his mind, as heafterwards stated in his own phraseology, not to speak to nobody tillsomebody spoke to him. 

A growing anxiety, however, to ascertain from one who had seen herlately, how Flora had borne his absence, at length induced CharlesHolland to break his self-imposed silence. 

"Jack, " he said, "you have had the happiness of seeing her lately, tellme, does Flora Bannerworth look as she was wont to look, or have all theroses faded from her cheeks?"

"Why, as for the roses, " said Jack, "I'm blowed if I can tell, andseeing as how she don't look at me much, I doesn't know nothing abouther; I can tell you something, though, about the old admiral that willmake you open your eyes. "

"Indeed, Jack, and what may that be?"

"Why, he's took to drink, and gets groggy about every day of his life, and the most singular thing is, that when that's the case with the oldman, he says it's me. "

"Indeed, Jack! taken to drinking has my poor old uncle, from grief, Isuppose, Jack, at my disappearance. "

"No, I don't think it's grief, " said Jack; "it strikes me it'srum-and-water. "

"Alas, alas, I never could have imagined he could have fallen into thathabit of yours; he always seemed so far from anything of this kind. "

"Ay, ay, sir, " said Jack, "I know'd you'd be astonished. It will be thedeath of him, that's my opinion; and the idea, you know, Master Charles, of accusing me when he gets drunk himself. "

"I believe that is a common delusion of intemperate persons, " saidCharles. 

"Is it, sir; well, it's a very awkward I thing, because you know, sir, as well as most people, that I'm not the fellow to take a drop toomuch. "

"I cannot say, Jack, that I know so much, for I have certainly heard myuncle accuse you of intoxication. "

"Lor', sir, that was all just on account of his trying it hisself; hewas a thinking on it then, and wanted to see how I'd take it. "

"But tell me of Flora; are you quite certain that she has had no morealarms from Varney?"

"What, that ere vampyre fellow? not a bit of it, your honour. Lor' blessyou, he must have found out by some means or another that I was on thelook out, and that did the business. He'll never come near Miss Floraagain, I'll be bound, though to be sure we moved away from the Hall onaccount of him; but not that I saw the good of cruising out of one's ownlatitude, but somehow or another you see the doctor and the admiral gotit into their heads to establish a sort of blockade, and the idea of thething was to sail away in the night quite quiet, and after that take upa position that would come across the enemy on the larboard tack, if sobe as he made his appearance. "

"Oh, you allude to watching the Hall, I presume?"

"Ay, ay, sir, just so; but would you believe it, Master Charlie, theadmiral and the doctor got so blessed drunk that I could do nothing with'em. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, they did indeed, and made all kinds of queer mistakes, so that theend of all that was, that the vampyre did come; but he got away again. "

"He did come then; Sir Francis Varney came again after the house waspresumed to be deserted?"

"He did, sir. "

"That is very strange; what on earth could have been his object? Thisaffair is most inexplicably mysterious. I hope the distance, Jack, isnot far that you're taking me, for I'm incapable of enduring muchfatigue. "

"Not a great way, your honour; keep two points to the westward, and sailstraight on; we'll soon come to port. My eye, won't there be a squallwhen you get in. I expect as Miss Flora will drop down as dead as aherring, for she doesn't think you're above the hatches. "

"A good thought, Jack; my sudden appearance may produce alarm. When wereach the place of abode of the Bannerworths, you shall precede me, andprepare them in some measure for my reception. "

"Very good, sir; do you see that there little white cottage a-head, there in the offing?"

"Yes, yes; is that the place?"

"Yes, your honour, that's the port to which we are bound. "

"Well, then, Jack, you hasten a-head, and see Miss Flora, and be sureyou prepare her gently and by degrees, you know, Jack, for myappearance, so that she shall not be alarmed. "

"Ay, ay, sir, I understand; you wait here, and I'll go and do it; therewould be a squall if you were to make your appearance, sir, all at once. She looks upon you as safely lodged in Davy's locker; she minds me, allthe world, of a girl I knew at Portsmouth, called Bet Bumplush. She wasone of your delicate little creatures as don't live long in this hereworld; no, blow me; when I came home from a eighteen months' cruise, once I seed her drinking rum out of a quart pot, so I says, 'Hilloa, what cheer?' And only to think now of the wonderful effect that therehad upon her; with that very pot she gives the fellow as was standingtreat a knobber on the head as lasted him three weeks. She was too goodfor this here world, she was, and too rummantic. 'Go to blazes, ' shesays to him, 'here's Jack Pringle come home. '"

"Very romantic indeed, " said Charles. 

"Yes, I believe you, sir; and that puts me in mind of Miss Flora andyou. "

"An extremely flattering comparison. Of course I feel much obliged. "

"Oh, don't name it, sir. The British tar as can't oblige a feller-cretoris unworthy to tread the quarter-deck, or to bear a hand to the distressof a woman. "

"Very well, " said Charles. "Now, as we are here, precede me, if youplease, and let me beg of you to be especially cautious in your mannerof announcing me. "

"Ay, ay, sir, " said Jack: and away he walked towards the cottage, leaving Charles some distance behind. 

Flora and the admiral were sitting together conversing. The old man, wholoved her as if she had been a child of his own, was endeavouring, tothe extent of his ability, to assuage the anguish of her thoughts, whichat that moment chanced to be bent upon Charles Holland. 

"Nevermind, my dear, " he said; "he'll turn up some of these days, andwhen he does, I sha'n't forget to tell him that it was you who stood outfor his honesty and truth, when every one else was against him, including myself, an old wretch that I was. "

"Oh, sir, how could you for one moment believe that those letters couldhave been written by your nephew Charles? They carried, sir, upon theface of them their own refutation; and I'm only surprised that for oneinstant you, or any one who knew him, could have believed him capable ofwriting them. "

"Avast, there, " said the admiral; "that'll do. I own you got the betterof the old sailor there. I think you and Jack Pringle were the only twopersons who stood out from the first. "

"Then I honour Jack for doing so. "

"And here he is, " said the admiral, "and you'd better tell him. Themutinous rascal! he wants all the honour he can get, as a set-offagainst his drunkenness and other bad habits. "

Jack walked into the room, looked about him in silence for a moment, thrust his hands in his breeches pockets, and gave a long whistle. 

"What's the matter now?" said the admiral. 

"D--me, if Charles Holland ain't outside, and I've come to prepare youfor the blessed shock, " said Jack. "Don't faint either of you, becauseI'm only going to let you know it by degrees, you know. "

A shriek burst from Flora's lips, and she sprung to the door of theapartment. 

"What!" cried the admiral, "my nephew--my nephew Charles! Jack, yourascal, if you're joking, it's the last joke you shall make in thisworld; and if it's true, I--I--I'm an old fool, that's all. "

"Ay, ay, sir, " said Jack; "didn't you know that afore?"

"Charles--Charles!" cried Flora. He heard the voice. Her name escapedhis lips, and rang with a pleasant echo through the house. 

In another moment he was in the room, and had clasped her to his breast. 

"My own--my beautiful--my true!"

"Charles, dear Charles!"

"Oh, Flora, what have I not endured since last we met; but this repaysme--more than repays me for all. "

"What is the past now, " cried Flora--"what are all its miseries placedagainst this happy, happy moment?"

"D--me, nobody thinks of me, " said the admiral. 

"My dear uncle, " said Charles, looking over Flora's shoulder, as hestill held her in his arms, "is that you?"

"Yes, yes, swab, it is me, and you know it; but give us your five, youmutinous vagabond; and I tell you what, I'll do you the greatest favourI've had an opportunity of doing you some time--I'll leave you alone, you dog. Come along, Jack. "

"Ay, ay, sir, " said Jack; and away they went out of the apartment. 

And now those two loving hearts were alone--they who had been so longseparated by malignant destiny, once again were heart to heart, lookinginto each other's faces with all the beaming tenderness of an affectionof the truest, holiest character. 

The admiral had done a favour to them both to leave them alone, althoughwe much doubt whether his presence, or the presence of the whole world, would have had the effect of controlling one generous sentiment of noblefeeling. 

They would have forgotten everything but that they were together, andthat once again each looked into the other's eyes with all thetenderness of a love purer and higher than ordinarily belongs to mortalaffections. 

Language was weak to give utterance to the full gust of happy feelingsthat now were theirs. It was ecstasy enough to feel, to know that theevil fortune which had so long separated them, depriving each existenceof its sunniest aspect, was over. It was enough for Charles Holland tofeel that she loved him still. It was enough for Flora Bannerworth toknow, as she looked into his beaming countenance, that that love was notmisplaced, but was met by feelings such as she herself would havedictated to be the inhabitants of the heart of him whom she would havechosen from the mass of mankind as her own. 

"Flora--dear Flora, " said Charles, "and you have never doubted me?"

"I've never doubted, Charles, Heaven or you. To doubt one would havebeen, to doubt both. "

"Generous and best of girls, what must you have thought of my enforcedabsence! Oh! Flora, I was unjust enough to your truth to make mygreatest pang the thought that you might doubt me, and cast me from yourheart for ever. "

"Ah! Charles, you ought to have known me better. I stood amid soretemptation to do so much. There were those who would have urged me on tothink that you had cast me from your heart for ever. There were thoseready and willing to place the worst construction upon your conduct, andwith a devilish ingenuity to strive to make me participate in such afeeling; but, no, Charles, no--I loved you, and I trusted you, and Icould not so far belie my own judgment as to tell you other than whatyou always seemed to my young fancy. "

"And you are right, my Flora, right; and is it not a glorious triumph tosee that love--that sentiment of passion--has enabled you to have soenduring and so noble a confidence in aught human?"

"Ay, Charles, it is the sentiment of passion, for our love has been morea sentiment than a passion. I would fain think that we had loved eachother with an affection not usually known, appreciated, or understood, and so, in the vanity of my best affections, I would strive to thinkthem something exclusive, and beyond the common feelings of humanity. "

"And you are right, my Flora; such love as yours is the exception; theremay be preferences, there may be passions, and there may be sentiments, but never, never, surely, was there a heart like yours. "

"Nay, Charles, now you speak from a too poetical fancy; but is itpossible that I have had you here so long, with your hand clasped inmine, and asked you not the causes of your absence?"

"Oh, Flora, I have suffered much--much physically, but more mentally. Itwas the thought of you that was at once the bane and the antidote of myexistence. "

"Indeed, Charles! Did I present myself in such contradictory colours toyou?"

"Yes, dearest, as thus. When I thought of you, sometimes, in the deepseclusion of a dungeon, that thought almost goaded me to madness, because it brought with it the conviction--a conviction peculiar to alover--that none could so effectually stand between you and all evil asmyself. "

"Yes, yes, Charles; most true. "

"It seemed to me as if all the world in arms could not have protectedyou so well as this one heart, clad in the triple steel of itsaffections, could have shielded you from evil. "

"Ay, Charles; and then I was the bane of your existence, because Ifilled you with apprehension?"

"For a time, dearest; and then came the antidote; for when exhaustedalike in mind and body--when lying helpless, with chains upon mylimbs--when expecting death at every visit of those who had dragged mefrom light and from liberty, and from love; it was but the thought ofthy beauty and thy affection that nerved me, and gave me a hope evenamidst the cruellest disaster. "

"And then--and then, Charles?"

"You were my blessing, as you have ever been--as you are, and as youwill ever be--my own Flora, my beautiful--my true!"

We won't go so far as to say it is the fact; but, from a series ofsingular sounds which reached even to the passage of the cottage, wehave our own private opinion to the effect, that Charles began kissingFlora at the top of her forehead, and never stopped, somehow or another, till he got down to her chin--no, not her chin--her sweet lips--he couldnot get past them. Perhaps it was wrong; but we can't help it--we arefaithful chroniclers. Reader, if you be of the sterner sex, what wouldyou have done?--if of the gentler, what would you have permitted?

CHAPTER LXXV. 

MUTUAL EXPLANATIONS, AND THE VISIT TO THE RUINS. 

[Illustration]

During the next hour, Charles informed Flora of the whole particulars ofhis forcible abduction; and to his surprise he heard, of course, for thefirst time, of those letters, purporting to be written by him, whichendeavoured to give so bad an aspect to the fact of his suddendisappearance from Bannerworth Hall. 

Flora would insist upon the admiral, Henry, and the rest of the family, hearing all that Charles had to relate concerning Mr. Marchdale; forwell she knew that her mother, from early associations, was so farimpressed in the favour of that hypocritical personage, that nothing butdamning facts, much to his prejudice, would suffice to convince her ofthe character he really was. 

But she was open to conviction, and when she really found what a villainshe had cherished and given her confidence to, she shed abundance oftears, and blamed herself exceedingly as the cause of some of themisfortunes which had fallen upon her children. 

"Very good, " said the admiral; "I ain't surprised a bit. I knew he was avagabond from the first time I clapped eyes upon him. There was a downlook about the fellow's figure-head that I didn't like, and be hanged tohim, but I never thought he would have gone the length he has done. Andso you say you've got him safe in the ruins, Charles?"

"I have, indeed, uncle. "

"And then there let him remain, and a good place, too, for him. "

"No, uncle, no. I'm sure you speak without thought. I intend to releasehim in a few hours, when I have rested from my fatigues. He could notcome to any harm if he were to go without food entirely for the timethat I leave him; but even that he will not do, for there is bread andwater in the dungeon. "

"Bread and water! that's too good for him. But, however, Charles, whenyou go to let him out, I'll go with you, just to tell him what I thinkof him, the vagabond. "

"He must suffer amazingly, for no doubt knowing well, as he does, hisown infamous intentions, he will consider that if I were to leave him tostarve to death, I should be but retailing upon him the injuries hewould have inflicted upon me. "

"The worst of it is, " said the admiral, "I can't think what to do withhim. "

"Do nothing, uncle, but just let him go; it will be a sufficientpunishment for such a man to feel that, instead of succeeding in hisdesigns, he has only brought upon himself the bitterest contempt ofthose whom he would fain have injured. I can have no desire for revengeon such a man as Marchdale. "

"You are right, Charles, " said Flora; "let him go, and let him go with afeeling that he has acquired the contempt of those whose best opinionsmight have been his for a far less amount of trouble than he has takento acquire their worst. "

Excitement had kept up Charles to this point, but now, when he arose andexpressed his intention of going to the ruins, for the purpose ofreleasing Marchdale, he exhibited such unequivocal symptoms ofexhaustion and fatigue that neither his uncle nor Flora would permit himto go, so, in deference to them, he gave up the point, and commissionedthe admiral and Jack, with Henry, to proceed to the place, and give thevillain his freedom; little suspecting what had occurred since he hadhimself left the neighbourhood of those ruins. 

Of course Charles Holland couldn't be at all accountable for the work ofthe elements, and it was not for him to imagine that when he leftMarchdale in the dungeon that so awful a catastrophe as that we haverecorded to the reader was to ensue. 

The distance to the ruins was not so great from this cottage even as itwas from Bannerworth Hall, provided those who went knew the most directand best road to take; so that the admiral was not gone above a coupleof hours, and when he returned he sat down and looked at Charles withsuch a peculiar expression, that the latter could not for the life ofhim tell what to make of it. 

[Illustration]

"Something has happened, uncle, " he said, "I am certain; tell me at oncewhat it is. "

"Oh! nothing, nothing, " said the admiral, "of any importance. "

"Is that what you call your feelings?" said Jack Pringle. "Can't youtell him as there came on a squall last night, and the ruins have comein with a dab upon old Marchdale, crushing his guts, so that we smelthim as soon as we got nigh at band?"

"Good God!" said Charles, "has such a catastrophe occurred?"

"Yes, Charles, that's just about the catastrophe that has occurred. He'sdead; and rum enough it is that it should happen on the very night thatyou escaped. "

"Rum!" said Jack, suddenly; "my eye, who mentions rum? What a singularsort of liquor rum must be. I heard of a chap as used to be fond of itonce on board a ship; I wonder if there's any in the house. "

"No!" said the admiral; "but there's a fine pump of spring water outsideif you feel a little thirsty, Jack; and I'll engage it shall do you moregood than all the rum in the world. "

"Uncle, " said Charles, "I'm glad to hear you make that observation. "

"What for?"

"Why, to deal candidly with you, uncle, Jack informed me that you hadlately taken quite a predilection for drinking. "

"Me!" cried the admiral; "why the infernal rascal, I've had to threatenhim with his discharge a dozen times, at least, on that very ground, andno other. "

"There's somebody calling me, " said Jack. "I'm a coming! I'm a coming!"and, so he bolted out of the room, just in time to escape an inkstand, which the admiral caught up and flung after him. 

"I'll strike that rascal off the ship's books this very day, " mutteredAdmiral Bell. "The drunken vagabond, to pretend that I take anything, when all the while it's himself!"

"Well, well, I ought certainly to have suspected the quarter from whencethe intelligence came; but he told it to me so circumstantially, andwith such an apparent feeling of regret for the weakness into which hesaid you had fallen, that I really thought there might be some truth init. "

"The rascal! I've done with him from this moment; I have put up with toomuch from him for years past. "

"I think now that you have given him a great deal of liberty, and that, with a great deal more he has taken, makes up an amount which you findit difficult to endure. "

"And I won't endure it. "

"Let me talk to him, and I dare say I shall be able to convince him thathe goes too far, and when he finds that such is the case he will mend. "

"Speak to him, if you like, but I have done with such a mutinous rascal, I have. You can take him into your service, if you like, till you gettired of him; and that won't be very long. "

"Well, well, we shall see. Jack will apologise to you I have no doubt;and then I shall intercede for him, and advise you to give him anothertrial. "

"If you get him into the apology, then there's no doubt about me givinghim another trial. But I know him too well for that; he's as obstinateas a mule, he is, and you won't get a civil word out of him; but nevermind that, now. I tell you what, Master Charley, it will take a good lotof roast beef to get up your good looks again. "

"It will, indeed, uncle; and I require, now, rest, for I am thoroughlyexhausted. The great privations I have undergone, and the amount ofmental excitement which I have experienced, in consequence of the suddenand unexpected release from a fearful confinement, have greatly weakenedall my energies. A few hours' sleep will make quite a different being ofme. "

"Well, my boy, you know best, " returned the admiral; "and I'll takecare, if you sleep till to-morrow, that you sha'n't be disturbed. So nowbe off to bed at once. "

The young man shook his uncle's hand in a cordial manner, and thenrepaired to the apartment which had been provided for him. 

Charles Holland did, indeed, stand in need of repose; and for the firsttime now for many days he laid down with serenity at his heart, andslept for many hours. And was there not now a great and a happy changein Flora Bannerworth! As if by magic, in a few short hours, much of thebloom of her before-fading beauty returned to her. Her step againrecovered its springy lightness; again she smiled upon her mother, andsuffered herself to talk of a happy future; for the dread even of thevampyre's visitations had faded into comparative insignificance againstthe heart's deep dejection which had come over her at the thought thatCharles Holland must surely be murdered, or he would have contrived tocome to her. 

And what a glorious recompense she had now for the trusting confidencewith which she had clung to a conviction of his truth! Was it not great, now, to feel that when he was condemned by others, and when strong andunimpeachable evidence seemed to be against him, she had clung to himand declared her faith in his honour, and wept for him instead ofcondemning?

Yes, Flora; you were of that order of noble minds that, where onceconfidence is given, give it fully and completely, and will not harboura suspicion of the faith of the loved one, a happy disposition whenverified, as in this instance, by an answering truthfulness. 

But when such a heart trusts not with judgment--when that pure, exalted, and noble confidence is given to an object unworthy of it--then comes, indeed, the most fearful of all mental struggles; and if the fond heart, that has hugged to its inmost core so worthless a treasure, do not breakin the effort to discard it, we may well be surprised at the amount offortitude that has endured so much. 

Although the admiral had said but little concerning the fearful endMarchdale had come to, it really did make some impression upon him; and, much as he held in abhorrence the villany of Marchdale's conduct, hewould gladly in his heart have averted the fate from him that he hadbrought upon himself. 

On the road to the ruins, he calculated upon taking a different kind ofvengeance. 

When they had got some distance from the cottage, Admiral Bell made aproposal to Henry to be his second while he fought Marchdale, but Henrywould not hear of it for a moment. 

"My dear sir, " he said, "could I, do you think, stand by and see avaluable, revered, and a respected life like yours exposed to any hazardmerely upon the chance of punishing a villain? No, no; Marchdale is toobase now to be met in honourable encounter. If he is dealt with in anyway let it be by the laws. "

This was reasonable enough, and after some argument the admiralcoincided in it, and then they began to wonder how, without Charles, they should be able to get an entrance to the dungeons, for it had beenhis intention originally, had he not felt so fatigued, to go with them. 

As soon, however, as they got tolerably near to the ruins, they saw whathad happened. Neither spoke, but they quickened their pace, and soonstood close to the mass of stone-work which now had assumed so differenta shape to what it had a few short hours before. 

It needed little examination to let them feel certain that whoever mighthave been in any of the underground dungeons must have been crushed todeath. 

"Heaven have mercy upon his soul!" said Henry. 

"Amen!" said the admiral. 

They both turned away, and for some time they neither of them spoke, fortheir thoughts were full of reflection upon the horrible death whichMarchdale must have endured. At length the admiral said--

"Shall we tell this or not?"

"Tell it at once, " said Henry; "let us have no secrets. "

"Good. Then I will not make one you may depend. I only wish that whilehe was about it, Charley could have popped that rascal Varney as well inthe dungeon, and then there would have been an end and a good riddanceof them both. "

CHAPTER LXXVI. 

THE SECOND NIGHT-WATCH OF MR. CHILLINGWORTH AT THE HALL. 

[Illustration]

The military party in the morning left Bannerworth Hall, and the oldplace resumed its wonted quiet. But Dr. Chillingworth found it difficultto get rid of his old friend, the hangman, who seemed quite disposed toshare his watch with him. 

The doctor, without being at all accused of being a prejudiced man, might well object to the continued companionship of one, who, accordingto his own account, was decidedly no better than he should be, if hewere half so good. 

Moreover, it materially interfered with the proceedings of our medicalfriend, whose object was to watch the vampyre with all imaginablequietness and secrecy, in the event of his again visiting BannerworthHall. 

"Sir, " he said, to the hangman, "now that you have so obligingly relatedto me your melancholy history, I will not detain you. "

"Oh, you are not detaining me. "

"Yes, but I shall probably remain here for a considerable time. "

"I have nothing to do; and one place is about the same as another tome. "

"Well, then, if I must speak plainly, allow me to say, that as I camehere upon a very important and special errand, I desire mostparticularly to be left alone. Do you understand me now?"

"Oh! ah!--I understand; you want me to go?"

"Just so. "

"Well, then, Dr. Chillingworth, allow me to tell you, I have come hereon a very special errand likewise. "

"You have?"

"I have. I have been putting one circumstance to another, and drawing avariety of conclusions from a variety of facts, so that I have come towhat I consider an important resolve, namely, to have a good look atBannerworth Hall, and if I continue to like it as well as I do now, Ishould like to make the Bannerworth family an offer for the purchase ofit. "

"The devil you would! Why all the world seems mad upon the project ofbuying this old building, which really is getting into such a state ofdilapidation, that it cannot last many years longer. "

"It is my fancy. "

"No, no; there is something more in this than meets the eye. The samereason, be it what may, that has induced Varney the vampyre to become sodesirous of possessing the Hall, actuates you. "

"Possibly. "

"And what is that reason? You may as well be candid with me. "

"Yes, I will, and am. I like the picturesque aspect of the place. "

"No, you know that that is a disingenuous answer, that you know well. Itis not the aspect of the old Hall that has charms for you. But I feel, only from your conduct, more than ever convinced, that some plot isgoing on, having the accomplishment of some great object as its climax, a something of which you have guessed. "

"How much you are mistaken!"

"No, I am certain I am right; and I shall immediately advise theBannerworth family to return, and to take up their abode again here, inorder to put an end to the hopes which you, or Varney, or any one elsemay have, of getting possession of the place. "

"If you were a man, " said the hangman, "who cared a little more foryourself, and a little less for others, I would make a confidant ofyou. "

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I mean, candidly, that you are not selfish enough to be entitledto my confidence. "

"That is a strange reason for withholding confidence from any man. "

"It is a strange reason; but, in this case, a most abundantly true one. I cannot tell you what I would tell you, because I cannot make theagreement with you that I would fain make. "

"You talk in riddles. "

"To explain which, then, would be to tell my secret. "

Dr. Chillingworth was, evidently, much annoyed, and yet he was in anextremely helpless condition; for as to forcing the hangman to leave theHall, if he did not feel disposed to do so, that was completely out ofthe question, and could not be done. In the first place, he was a muchmore powerful man than the doctor, and in the second, it was quitecontrary to all Mr. Chillingworth's habits, to engage in anything likepersonal warfare. 

He could only, therefore, look his vexation, and say, --

"If you are determined upon remaining, I cannot help it; but, when someone, as there assuredly will, comes from the Bannerworths, here, to me, or I shall be under the necessity of stating candidly that you areintruding. "

"Very good. As the morning air is keen, and as we now are not likely tobe as good company to each other as we were, I shall go inside thehouse. "

This was a proposition which the doctor did not like, but he wascompelled to submit to it; and he saw, with feelings of uneasiness, thehangman make his way into the Hall by one of the windows. 

Then Dr. Chillingworth sat down to think. Much he wondered what could bethe secret of the great desire which Varney, Marchdale, and even thisman had, all of them to be possessors of the old Hall. 

That there was some powerful incentive he felt convinced, and he longedfor some conversation with the Bannerworths, or with Admiral Bell, inorder that he might state what had now taken place. That some one wouldsoon come to him, in order to bring fresh provisions for the day, he wascertain, and all he could do, in the interim, was, to listen to what thehangman was about in the Hall. 

Not a sound, for a considerable time, disturbed the intense stillness ofthe place; but, now, suddenly, Mr. Chillingworth thought he heard ahammering, as if some one was at work in one of the rooms of the Hall. 

"What can be the meaning of that?" he said, and he was about to proceedat once to the interior of the building, through the same window whichhad enabled the hangman to gain admittance, when he heard his own namepronounced by some one at the back of the garden fence, and upon castinghis eyes in that direction, he, to his great relief, saw the admiral andHenry Bannerworth. 

"Come round to the gate, " said the doctor. "I am more glad to see youthan I can tell you just now. Do not make more noise than you can help;but, come round to the gate at once. "

They obeyed the injunction with alacrity, and when the doctor hadadmitted them, the admiral said, eagerly, --

"You don't mean to tell us that he is here?"

"No, no, not Varney; but he is not the only one who has taken a greataffection for Bannerworth Hall; you may have another tenant for it, andI believe at any price you like to name. "

"Indeed!"

"Hush! creep along close to the house, and then you will not be seen. There! do you hear that noise in the hall?"

"Why it sounds, " said the admiral, "like the ship's carpenter at work. "

"It does, indeed, sound like a carpenter; it's only the new tenantmaking, I dare say, some repairs. "

"D--n his impudence!"

"Why, it certainly does look like a very cool proceeding, I must admit. "

"Who, and what is he?"

"Who he is now, I cannot tell you, but he was once the hangman ofLondon, at a time when I was practising in the metropolis, and so Ibecame acquainted with him. He knows Sir Francis Varney, and, if Imistake not, has found out the cause of that mysterious personage'sgreat attachment to Bannerworth Hall, and has found the reasons socogent, that he has got up an affection for it himself. "

"To me, " said Henry, "all this is as incomprehensible as anything canpossibly be. What on earth does it all mean?"

"My dear Henry, " said the doctor, "will you be ruled by me?"

"I will be ruled by any one whom I know I can trust; for I am like a mangroping his way in the dark. "

"Then allow this gentleman who is carpentering away so pleasantly withinthe house, to do so to his heart's content, but don't let him leave it. Show yourselves now in the garden, he has sufficient prudence to knowthat three constitute rather fearful odds against one, and so he will becareful, and remain where he is. If he should come out, we need not lethim go until we thoroughly ascertain what he has been about. "

"You shall command the squadron, doctor, " said the admiral, "and have itall your own way, you know, so here goes! Come along, Henry, and let'sshow ourselves; we are both armed too!"

They walked out into the centre of the garden, and they were soonconvinced that the hangman saw them, for a face appeared at the window, and was as quickly withdrawn again. 

"There, " said the doctor, "now he knows he is a prisoner, and we may aswell place ourselves in some position which commands a good view of thehouse, as well as of the garden gate, and so see if we cannot starve himout, though we may be starved out ourselves. "

"Not at all!" said Admiral Bell, producing from his ample pocketsvarious parcels, --"we came to bring you ample supplies. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes; we have been as far as the ruins. "

"Oh, to release Marchdale. Charles told me how the villain had falleninto the trap he had laid for him. "

"He has, indeed, fallen into the trap, and it's one he won't easily getout of again. He's dead. "

"Dead!--dead!"

"Yes; in the storm of last night the ruins have fallen, and he is bythis time as flat as a pancake. "

"Good God! and yet it is but a just retribution upon him. He would haveassassinated poor Charles Holland in the cruelest and most cold-bloodedmanner, and, however we may shudder at the manner of his death, wecannot regret it. "

"Except that he has escaped your friend the hangman, " said the admiral. 

"Don't call him my friend, if you please, " said Dr. Chillingworth, "but, hark how he is working away, as if he really intended to carry the houseaway piece by piece, as opportunity may serve, if you will not let it tohim altogether, just as it stands. "

"Confound him! he is evidently working on his own account, " said theadmiral, "or he would not be half so industrious. "

There was, indeed, a tremendous amount of hammering and noise, of onesort and another, from the house, and it was quite clear that thehangman was too heart and soul in his work, whatever may have been theobject of it, to care who was listening to him, or to what conjecture hegave rise. 

He thought probably that he could but be stopped in what he was about, and, until he was so, that he might as well go on. 

And on he went, with a vengeance, vexing the admiral terribly, whoproposed so repeatedly to go into the house and insist upon knowing whathe was about, that his, wishes were upon the point of being conceded toby Henry, although they were combatted by the doctor, when, from thewindow at which he had entered, out stepped the hangman. 

"Good morning, gentlemen! good morning, " he said, and he moved towardsthe garden gate. "I will not trouble you any longer. Good morning!"

"Not so fast, " said the admiral, "or we may bring you up with a roundturn, and I never miss my mark when I can see it, and I shall not let itget out of sight, you may depend. "

He drew a pistol from his pocket, as he spoke, and pointed it at thehangman, who, thereupon paused and said:--

"What! am I not to be permitted to go in peace? Why it was but a shorttime since the doctor was quarrelling with me because I did not go, andnow it seems that I am to be shot if I do. "

"Yes, " said the admiral, "that's it. "

"Well! but, --"

"You dare, " said he, "stir another inch towards the gate, and you are adead man!"

The hangman hesitated a moment, and looked at Admiral Bell; apparentlythe result of the scrutiny was, that he would keep his word, for hesuddenly turned and dived in at the window again without saying anotherword. 

"Well; you have certainly stopped him from leaving, " said Henry; "butwhat's to be done now?"

"Let him be, let him be, " said the doctor; "he must come out again, forthere are no provisions in the place, and he will be starved out. "

"Hush! what is that?" said Henry. 

There was a very gentle ring at the bell which hung over the gardengate. 

"That's an experiment, now, I'll be bound, " said the doctor, "toascertain if any one is here; let us hide ourselves, and take nonotice. "

The ring in a few moments was repeated, and the three confederates hidthemselves effectually behind some thick laurel bushes and awaited withexpectation what might next ensue. 

Not long had they occupied their place of concealment, before they hearda heavy fall upon the gravelled pathway, immediately within the gate, asif some one had clambered to the top from the outside, and then jumpeddown. 

That this was the case the sound of footsteps soon convinced them, andto their surprise as well as satisfaction, they saw through theinterstices of the laurel bush behind which they were concealed, no lessa personage that Sir Francis Varney himself. 

"It is Varney, " said Henry. 

"Yes, yes, " whispered the doctor. "Let him be, do not move for anyconsideration, for the first time let him do just what he likes. "

"D--n the fellow!" said the admiral; "there are some points about himthat like, after all, and he's quite an angel compared to that rascalMarchdale. "

"He is, --he saved Charles. "

"He did, and not if I know it shall any harm come to him, unless he wereterribly to provoke it by becoming himself the assailant. "

"How sad he looks!"

"Hush! he comes nearer; it is not safe to talk. Look at him. "

CHAPTER LXXVII. 

VARNEY IN THE GARDEN. --THE COMMUNICATION OF DR. CHILLINGWORTH TO THEADMIRAL AND HENRY. 

[Illustration]

Kind reader, it was indeed Varney who had clambered over the gardenwall, and thus made his way into the garden of Bannerworth Hall; andwhat filled those who looked at him with the most surprise was, that hedid not seem in any particular way to make a secret of his presence, butwalked on with an air of boldness which either arose from a feeling ofabsolute impunity, from his thinking there was no one there, or from anaudacity which none but he could have compassed. 

As for the little party that was there assembled, and who looked uponhim, they seemed thunderstricken by his presence; and Henry, probably, as well as the admiral, would have burst out into some suddenexclamation, had they not been restrained by Dr. Chillingworth, who, suspecting that they might in some way give an alarm, hastened to speakfirst, saying in a whisper, --

"For Heaven's sake, be still, fortune, you see, favours us moststrangely. Leave Varney alone. You have no other mode whatever ofdiscovering what he really wants at Bannerworth Hall. "

"I am glad you have spoken, " said Henry, as he drew a long breath. "Ifyou had not, I feel convinced that in another moment I should haverushed forward and confronted this man who has been the very bane of mylife. "

"And so should I, " said the admiral; "although I protest against anyharm being done to him, on account of some sort of good feeling that hehas displayed, after all, in releasing Charles from that dungeon inwhich Marchdale has perished. "

"At the moment, " said Henry, "I had forgotten that; but I will own thathis conduct has been tinctured by a strange and wild kind of generosityat times, which would seem to bespeak, at the bottom of his heart, somegood feelings, the impulses of which were only quenched bycircumstances. "

"That is my firm impression of him, I can assure you, " said Dr. Chillingworth. 

They watched Varney now from the leafy covert in which they weresituated, and, indeed, had they been less effectually concealed, it didnot seem likely that the much dreaded vampyre would have perceived them;for not only did he make no effort at concealment himself, but he tookno pains to see if any one was watching him in his progress to thehouse. 

His footsteps were more rapid than they usually were, and there wasaltogether an air and manner about him, as if he were moved to somepurpose which of itself was sufficiently important to submerge in itsconsequences all ordinary risks and all ordinary cautions. 

He tried several windows of the house along that terrace of which wehave more than once had occasion to speak, before he found one thatopened; but at length he did succeed, and stepped at once into the Hall, leaving those, who now for some moments in silence had regarded hismovements, to lose themselves in a fearful sea of conjecture as to whatcould possibly be his object. 

"At all events, " said the admiral, "I'm glad we are here. If the vampyreshould have a fight with that other fellow, that we heard doing such alot of carpentering work in the house, we ought, I think, to see fairplay. "

"I, for one, " said the doctor, "would not like to stand by and see thevampyre murdered; but I am inclined to think he is a good match for anymortal opponent. "

"You may depend he is, " said Henry. 

"But how long, doctor, do you purpose that we should wait here in such astate of suspense as to what is going on within the house?"

"I hope not long; but that something will occur to make us have food foraction. Hark! what is that?"

There was a loud crash within the building, as of broken glass. Itsounded as if some window had been completely dashed in; but althoughthey looked carefully over the front of the building, they could see noevidences of such a thing having happened, and were compelled, consequently, to come to the opinion that Varney and the other man musthave met in one of the back rooms, and that the crash of glass hadarisen from some personal conflict in which they had engaged. 

"I cannot stand this, " said Henry. 

"Nay, nay, " said the doctor; "be still, and I will tell you something, than which there can be no more fitting time than this to reveal it. "

"Refers it to the vampyre?"

"It does--it does. "

"Be brief, then; I am in an agony of impatience. "

"It is a circumstance concerning which I can be brief; for, horrible asit is, I have no wish to dress it in any adventitious colours. SirFrancis Varney, although under another name, is an old acquaintance ofmine. "

"Acquaintance!" said Henry. 

"Why, you don't mean to say you are a vampyre?" said the admiral; "orthat he has ever visited you?"

"No; but I knew him. From the first moment that I looked upon him inthis neighbourhood, I thought I knew him; but the circumstance whichinduced me to think so was of so terrific a character, that I made someefforts to chase it from my mind. It has, however, grown upon me day byday, and, lately, I have had proof sufficient to convince me of hisidentity with one whom I first saw under most singular circumstances ofromance. "

"Say on, --you are agitated. "

"I am, indeed. This revelation has several times, within the last fewdays, trembled on my lips, but now you shall have it; because you oughtto know all that it is possible for me to tell you of him who has causedyou so serious an amount of disturbance. "

"You awaken, doctor, " said Henry, "all my interest. "

"And mine, too, " remarked the admiral. "What can it be all about? andwhere, doctor, did you first see this Varney the vampyre?"

"In his coffin. "

Both the admiral and Henry gave starts of surprise as, with one accord, they exclaimed, --

"Did you say coffin?"

"Yes: I tell you, on my word of honour, that the first time in my life Isaw ever Sir Francis Varney, was in his coffin. "

"Then he is a vampyre, and there can be no mistake, " said the admiral. 

"Go on, I pray you, doctor, go on, " said Henry, anxiously. 

"I will. The reason why he became the inhabitant of a coffin was simplythis:--he had been hanged, --executed at the Old Bailey, in London, before ever I set eyes upon that strange countenance of his. You knowthat I was practising surgery at the London schools some years ago, andthat, consequently, as I commenced the profession rather late in life, Iwas extremely anxious to do the most I could in a very short space oftime. "

"Yes--yes. "

"Arrived, then, with plenty of resources, which I did not, as the youngmen who affected to be studying in the same classes as myself, spend inthe pursuit of what they considered life in London, I wasindefatigable in my professional labours, and there was nothingconnected with them which I did not try to accomplish. 

"At that period, the difficulty of getting a subject for anatomizationwas very great, and all sorts of schemes had to be put into requisitionto accomplish so desirable, and, indeed, absolutely necessary a purpose. 

"I became acquainted with the man who, I have told you, is in the Hall, at present, and who then filled the unenviable post of publicexecutioner. It so happened, too, that I had read a learned treatise, bya Frenchman, who had made a vast number of experiments with galvanic andother apparatus, upon persons who had come to death in different ways, and, in one case, he asserted that he had actually recovered a man whohad been hanged, and he had lived five weeks afterwards. 

"Young as I then was, in comparison to what I am now, in my profession, this inflamed my imagination, and nothing seemed to me so desirable asgetting hold of some one who had only recently been put to death, forthe purpose of trying what I could do in the way of attempting aresuscitation of the subject. It was precisely for this reason that Isought out the public executioner, and made his acquaintance, whom everyone else shunned, because I thought he might assist me by handing overto me the body of some condemned and executed man, upon whom I could trymy skill. 

"I broached the subject to him, and found him not averse. He said, thatif I would come forward and claim, as next of kin and allow the body tobe removed to his house, the body of the criminal who was to be executedthe first time, from that period, that he could give me a hint that Ishould have no real next of kin opponents, he would throw every facilityin my way. 

"This was just what I wanted; and, I believe, I waited with impatiencefor some poor wretch to be hurried to his last account by the hands ofmy friend, the public executioner. 

"At length a circumstance occurred which favoured my designs mosteffectually, --A man was apprehended for a highway robbery of a mostaggravated character. He was tried, and the evidence against him was soconclusive, that the defence which was attempted by his counsel, becamea mere matter of form. 

"He was convicted, and sentenced. The judge told him not to flatterhimself with the least notion that mercy would be extended to him. Thecrime of which he had been found guilty was on the increase it washighly necessary to make some great public example, to show evil doersthat they could not, with impunity, thus trample upon the liberty of thesubject, and had suddenly, just as it were, in the very nick of time, committed the very crime, attended with all the aggravated circumstanceswhich made it easy and desirable to hang him out of hand. 

"He heard his sentence, they tell me unmoved. I did not see him, but hewas represented to me as a man of a strong, and well-knit frame, withrather a strange, but what some would have considered a handsomeexpression of countenance, inasmuch as that there was an expression ofmuch haughty resolution depicted on it. 

"I flew to my friend the executioner. 

"'Can you, ' I said, 'get me that man's body, who is to be hanged for thehighway robbery, on Monday?'

"'Yes, ' he said; 'I see nothing to prevent it. Not one soul has offeredto claim even common companionship with him, --far less kindred. I thinkif you put in your claim as a cousin, who will bear the expense of hisdecent burial, you will have every chance of getting possession of thebody. '

"I did not hesitate, but, on the morning before the execution, I calledupon one of the sheriffs. 

"I told him that the condemned man, I regretted to say, was related tome; but as I knew nothing could be done to save him on the trial, I hadabstained from coming forward; but that as I did not like the idea ofhis being rudely interred by the authorities, I had come forward to askfor the body, after the execution should have taken place, in order thatI might, at all events, bestow upon it, in some sequestered spot, adecent burial, with all the rites of the church. 

"The sheriff was a man not overburthened with penetration. He applaudedmy pious feelings, and actually gave me, without any inquiry, a writtenorder to receive the body from the hands of the hangman, after it hadhung the hour prescribed by the law. 

"I did not, as you may well suppose, wish to appear more in the businessthan was absolutely necessary; but I gave the executioner the sheriff'sorder for the body, and he promised that he would get a shell ready toplace it in, and four stout men to carry it at once to his house, whenhe should cut it down. 

"'Good!' I said; 'and now as I am not a little anxious for the successof my experiment, do you not think that you can manage so that the fallof the criminal shall not be so sudden as to break his neck?'

"'I have thought of that, ' he said, 'and I believe that I can manage tolet him down gently, so that he shall die of suffocation, instead ofhaving his neck put out of joint. I will do my best. "

"'If you can but succeed in that, ' said I, for I was quite in a state ofmania upon the subject, 'I shall be much indebted to you, and willdouble the amount of money which I have already promised. '

"This was, as I believed it would be, a powerful stimulus to him to doall in his power to meet my wishes, and he took, no doubt, activemeasures to accomplish all that I desired. 

"You can imagine with what intense impatience I waited the result. Heresided in an old ruinous looking house, a short distance on the Surreyside of the river, and there I had arranged all my apparatus for makingexperiments upon the dead man, in an apartment the windows of whichcommanded a view of the entrance. "

[Illustration]

"I was completely ready by half-past eight, although a moment'sconsideration of course told me that at least another hour must elapsebefore there could be the least chance of my seeing him arrive, for whomI so anxiously longed. 

"I can safely say so infatuated was I upon the subject, that no fondlover ever looked with more nervous anxiety for the arrival of thechosen object of his heart, than I did for that dead body, upon which Iproposed to exert all the influences of professional skill, to recallback the soul to its earthly dwelling-place. 

"At length I heard the sound of wheels. I found that my friend thehangman had procured a cart, in which he brought the coffin, that beinga much quicker mode of conveyance than by bearers so that about aquarter past nine o'clock the vehicle, with its ghastly content, stoppedat the door of his house. 

"In my impatience I ran down stairs to meet that which ninety-nine menout of a hundred would have gone some distance to avoid the sight of, namely, a corpse, livid and fresh from the gallows. I, however, heraldedit as a great gift, and already, in imagination I saw myself imitatingthe learned Frenchman, who had published such an elaborate treatise onthe mode of restoring life under all sorts of circumstances, to thosewho were already pronounced by unscientific persons to be dead. 

"To be sure, a sort of feeling had come over me at times, knowing as Idid that the French are a nation that do not scruple at all to sacrificetruth on the altar of vanity, that it might be after all a mererhodomontade; but, however, I could only ascertain so much by actuallytrying, so the suspicion that such might, by a possibility, be the endof the adventure, did not deter me. 

"I officiously assisted in having the coffin brought into the room whereI had prepared everything that was necessary in the conduction of mygrand experiment; and then, when no one was there with me but my friendthe executioner, I, with his help, the one of us taking the head and theother the feet, took the body from the coffin and laid it upon a table. 

"Hastily I placed my hand upon the region of the heart, and to my greatdelight I found it still warm. I drew off the cap that covered the face, and then, for the first time, my eyes rested upon the countenance of himwho now calls himself--Heaven only knows why--Sir Francis Varney. "

"Good God!" said Henry, "are you certain?"

"Quite. "

"It may have been some other rascal like him, " said the admiral. 

"No, I am quite sure now; I have, as I have before mentioned to you, tried to get out of my own conviction upon the subject, but I have beenactually assured that he is the man by the very hangman himself. "

"Go on, go on! Your tale certainly is a strange one, and I do not say iteither to compliment you or to cast a doubt upon you, but, except fromthe lips of an old, and valued friend, such as you yourself are, Ishould not believe it. '

"I am not surprised to hear you say that, " replied the doctor; "norshould I be offended even now if you were to entertain a belief that Imight, after all, be mistaken. "

"No, no; you would not be so positive upon the subject, I well know, ifthere was the slightest possibility of an error. "

"Indeed I should not. "

"Let us have the sequel, then. "

"It is this. I was most anxious to effect an immediate resuscitation, ifit were possible, of the hanged man. A little manipulation soonconvinced me that the neck was not broken, which left me at once everything to hope for. The hangman was more prudent than I was, and before Icommenced my experiments, he said, --

"'Doctor, have you duly considered what you mean to do with this fellow, in case you should be successful in restoring him to life?'

"'Not I, ' said I. 

"'Well, ' he said, 'you can do as you like; but I consider that it isreally worth thinking of. '

"I was headstrong on the matter, and could think of nothing but thesuccess or the non-success, in a physiological point of view, of my planfor restoring the dead to life; so I set about my experiments withoutany delay, and with a completeness and a vigour that promised the mostcompletely successful results, if success could at all be an ingredientin what sober judgment would doubtless have denominated a mad-headed andwild scheme. 

"For more than half an hour I tried in vain, by the assistance of thehangman, who acted under my directions. Not the least symptom ofvitality presented itself; and he had a smile upon his countenance, ashe said in a bantering tone, --

"'I am afraid, sir, it is much easier to kill than to restore theirpatients with doctors. '

"Before I could make him any reply, for I felt that his observation hada good amount of truth in it, joined to its sarcasm the hanged manuttered a loud scream, and opened his eyes. 

"I must own I was myself rather startled; but I for some moments longercontinued the same means which had produced such an effect, whensuddenly he sprang up and laid hold of me, at the same timeexclaiming, --

"'Death, death, where is the treasure?'

"I had fully succeeded--too fully; and while the executioner looked onwith horror depicted in his countenance, I fled from the room and thehouse, taking my way home as fast as I possibly could. 

"A dread came over me, that the restored man would follow me if heshould find out, to whom it was he was indebted for the ratherquestionable boon of a new life. I packed up what articles I set thegreatest store by, bade adieu to London, and never have I since set footwithin that city. "

"And you never met the man you had so resuscitated?"

"Not till I saw Varney, the vampyre; and, as I tell you, I am nowcertain that he is the man. "

"That is the strangest yarn that ever I heard, " said the admiral. 

"A most singular circumstance, " said Henry. 

"You may have noticed about his countenance, " said Dr. Chillingworth, "astrange distorted look?"

"Yes, yes. "

"Well, that has arisen from a spasmodic contraction of the muscles, inconsequence of his having been hanged. He will never lose it, and it hasnot a little contributed to give him the horrible look he has, and toinvest him with some of the seeming outward attributes of the vampyre. "

"And that man who is now in the hall with him, doctor, " said Henry, "isthe very hangman who executed him?"

"The same. He tells me that after I left, he paid attention to therestored man, and completed what I had nearly done. He kept him in hishouse for a time, and then made a bargain with him, for a large sum ofmoney per annum, all of which he has regularly been paid, although hetells me he has no more idea where Varney gets it, than the man in themoon. "

"It is very strange; but, hark! do you not hear the sound of voices inangry altercation?"

"Yes, yes, they have met. Let us approach the windows now. We may chanceto hear something of what they say to each other. "

CHAPTER LXXVIII. 

THE ALTERCATION BETWEEN VARNEY AND THE EXECUTIONER IN THE HALL. --THEMUTUAL AGREEMENT. 

[Illustration]

There was certainly a loud wrangling in the Hall, just as the doctorfinished his most remarkable revelation concerning Sir Francis Varney, arevelation which by no means attacked the fact of his being a vampyre ornot; but rather on the contrary, had a tendency to confirm any opinionthat might arise from the circumstance of his being restored to lifeafter his execution, favourable to that belief. 

They all three now carefully approached the windows of the Hall, tolisten to what was going on, and after a few moments they distinctlyheard the voice of the hangman, saying in loud and rather angryaccents, --

"I do not deny but that you have kept your word with me--our bargain hasbeen, as you say, a profitable one: but, still I cannot see why thatcircumstance should give you any sort of control over my actions. "

"But what do you here?" said Varney, impatiently. 

"What do you?" cried the other. 

"Nay, to ask another question, is not to answer mine. I tell you that Ihave special and most important business in this house; you can have nomotive but curiosity. "

"Can I not, indeed? What, too, if I have serious and important businesshere?"

"Impossible. "

"Well, I may as easily use such a term as regards what you callimportant business, but here I shall remain. "

"Here you shall not remain. "

"And will you make the somewhat hazardous attempt to force me to leave?"

"Yes, much as I dislike lifting my hand against you, I must do so; Itell you that I must be alone in this house. I have most specialreasons--reasons which concern my continued existence. 

"Your continued existence you talk of. --Tell me, now, how is it that youhave acquired so frightful a reputation in this neighbourhood? Go whereI will, the theme of conversation is Varney, the vampyre! and it isimplicitly believed that you are one of those dreadful characters thatfeed upon the life-blood of others, only now and then revisiting thetomb to which you ought long since to have gone in peace. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes; what, in the name of all that's inexplicable, has induced you toenact such a character?"

"Enact it! you say. Can you, then, from all you have heard of me, andfrom all you know of me, not conceive it possible that I am not enactingany such character? Why may it not be real? Look at me. Do I look likeone of the inhabitants of the earth?"

"In sooth, you do not. "

"And yet I am, as you see, upon it. Do not, with an affected philosophy, doubt all that may happen to be in any degree repugnant to your usualexperiences. "

"I am not one disposed to do so; nor am I prepared to deny that suchdreadful beings may exist as vampyres. However, whether or not youbelong to so frightful a class of creatures, I do not intend to leavehere; but, I will make an agreement with you. "

Varney was silent; and after a few moments' pause, the otherexclaimed, --

"There are people, even now, watching the place, and no doubt you havebeen seen coming into it. "

"No, no, I was satisfied no one was here but you. "

"Then you are wrong. A Doctor Chillingworth, of whom you know something, is here; and him, you have said, you would do no harm to, even to saveyour life. "

"I do know him. You told me that it was to him that I was mainlyindebted for my mere existence; and although I do not consider humanlife to be a great boon, I cannot bring myself to raise my hand againstthe man who, whatever might have been the motives for the deed, at allevents, did snatch me from the grave. "

"Upon my word, " whispered the admiral, "there is something about thatfellow that I like, after all. "

"Hush!" said Henry, "listen to them. This would all have beenunintelligible to us, if you had not related to us what you have. "

"I have just told you in time, " said Chillingworth, "it seems. "

"Will you, then, " said the hangman, "listen to proposals?"

"Yes, " said Varney. 

"Come along, then, and I will show you what I have been about; and Irather think you have already a shrewd guess as to my motive. Thisway--this way. "

They moved off to some other part of the mansion, and the sound of theirvoices gradually died away, so that after all, the friends had not gotthe least idea of what that motive was, which still induced the vampyreand the hangman, rather than leave the other on the premises, to make anagreement to stay with each other. 

"What's to be done now?" said Henry. 

"Wait, " said Dr. Chillingworth, "wait, and watch still. I see nothingelse that can be done with any degree of safety. "

"But what are we to wait for?" said the admiral. 

"By waiting, we shall, perhaps, find out, " was the doctor's reply; "butyou may depend that we never shall by interfering. "

"Well, well, be it so. It seems that we have no other resource. And wheneither or both of those fellows make their appearance, and seem about toleave, what is to be done with them?"

"They must be seized then, and in order that that may be done withoutany bloodshed, we ought to have plenty of force here. Henry, could youget your brother, and Charles, if he be sufficiently recovered, tocome?"

"Certainly, and Jack Pringle. "

"No, " said the admiral, "no Jack Pringle for me; I have done with himcompletely, and I have made up my mind to strike him off the ship'sbooks, and have nothing more to do with him. "

"Well, well, " added the doctor, "we will not have him, then; and it isjust as well, for, in all likelihood, he would come drunk, and we shallbe--let me see--five strong without him, which ought to be enough totake prisoners two men. "

"Yes, " said Henry, "although one of them may be a vampyre. "

"That makes no difference, " said the admiral. "I'd as soon take a shipmanned with vampyres as with Frenchmen. "

Henry started off upon his errand, certainly leaving the admiral and thedoctor in rather a critical situation while he was gone; for had Varneythe vampyre and the hangman chosen, they could certainly easily haveovercome so inefficient a force. 

The admiral would, of course, have fought, and so might the doctor, asfar as his hands would permit him; but if the others had really beenintent upon mischief, they could, from their downright superior physicalpower, have taken the lives of the two that were opposed to them. 

But somehow the doctor appeared to have a great confidence in theaffair. Whether that confidence arose from what the vampyre had saidwith regard to him, or from any hidden conviction of his own that theywould not yet emerge from the Hall, we cannot say; but certain it is, hewaited the course of events with great coolness. 

No noise for some time came from the house; but then the sounds, as ifworkmen were busy within it, were suddenly resumed, and with more vigourthan before. 

It was nearly two hours before Henry made the private signal which hadbeen agreed upon as that which should proclaim his return; and then heand his brother, with Charles, who, when he heard of the matter, would, notwithstanding the persuasions of Flora to the contrary, come, gotquietly over the fence at a part of the garden which was quite hiddenfrom the house by abundant vegetation, and the whole three of them tookup a position that tolerably well commanded a view of the house, whilethey were themselves extremely well hidden behind a dense mass ofevergreens. 

"Did you see that rascal, Jack Pringle?" said the admiral. 

"Yes, " said Henry; "he is drunk. "

"Ah, to be sure. "

"And we had no little difficulty in shaking him off. He suspected wherewe were going; but I think, by being peremptory, we got fairly rid ofhim. "

"The vagabond! if he comes here, I'll brain him, I will, the swab. Why, lately he's done nothing but drink. That's the way with him. He'll go onsometimes for a year and more, and not take more than enough to do himgood, and then all at once, for about six or eight weeks, he doesnothing but drink. "

"Well, well, we can do without him, " said Henry. 

"Without him! I should think so. Do you hear those fellows in the Hallat work? D--n me, if I haven't all of a sudden thought what the reasonof it all is. "

"What--what?" said the doctor, anxiously. 

"Why, that rascal Varney, you know, had his house burnt down. "

"Yes; well?"

"Yes, well. I dare say he didn't think it well. But, however, he nodoubt wants another; so, you see, my idea is, that he's stealing thematerial from Bannerworth Hall. "

"Oh, is that your notion?"

"Yes, and a very natural one, I think, too, Master Doctor, whatever youmay think of it. Come, now, have you a better?"

"Oh, dear, no, certainly not; but I have a notion that something to eatwould comfort the inward man much. "

"And so would something to drink, blow me if it wouldn't, " said JackPringle, suddenly making his appearance. 

The admiral made a rush upon him; but he was restrained by the others, and Jack, with a look of triumph, said, --

"Why, what's amiss with you now? I ain't drunk now. Come, come, you havesomething dangerous in the wind, I know, so I've made up my mind to bein it, so don't put yourself out of the way. If you think I don't knowall about it, you are mistaken, for I do. The vampyre is in the houseyonder, and I'm the fellow to tackle him, I believe you, my boys. "

"Good God!" said the doctor, "what shall we do?"

"Nothing, " said Jack, as he took a bottle from his pocket and appliedthe neck of it to his lips--"nothing--nothing at all. "

"There's something to begin with, " said the admiral, as with his stickhe gave the bottle a sudden blow that broke it and spilt all itscontents, leaving Jack petrified, with the bit of the neck of it stillin his mouth. 

"My eye, admiral, " he said, "was that done like a British seaman? Myeye--was that the trick of a lubber, or of a thorough-going first-rater?first-rater? My eye--"

"Hold your noise, will you; you are not drunk yet, and I was determinedthat you should not get so, which you soon would with that rum-bottle, if I had not come with a broadside across it. Now you may stay; but, mark me, you are on active service now, and must do nothing withoutorders. "

"Ay, ay, your honour, " said Jack, as he dropped the neck of the bottle, and looked ruefully upon the ground, from whence arose the aroma ofrum--"ay, ay; but it's a hard case, take it how you will, to have yourgrog stopped; but, d--n it, I never had it stopped yet when it was in mymouth. "

Henry and Charles could not forbear a smile at Jack's discomfiture, which, however, they were very glad of, for they knew full well hisfailing, and that in the course of another half hour he would have beendrunk, and incapable of being controlled, except, as on some formeroccasions, by the exercise of brute force. 

But Jack was evidently displeased, and considered himself to begrievously insulted, which, after all, was the better, inasmuch as, while he was brooding over his wrongs, he was quiet; when, otherwise, itmight have been a very difficult matter to make him so. 

They partook of some refreshments, and, as the day advanced, thebrothers Bannerworth, as well as Charles Holland, began to get veryanxious upon the subject of the proceedings of Sir Francis Varney in theHall. 

They conversed in low tones, exhausting every, as they considered, possible conjecture to endeavour to account for his mysteriouspredilection for that abode, but nothing occurred to them of asufficiently probable motive to induce them to adopt it as a conclusion. 

They more than suspected Dr. Chillingworth, because he was so silent, and hazarded no conjecture at all of knowing something, or of havingformed to himself some highly probable hypothesis upon the subject; butthey could not get him to agree that such was the case. 

When they challenged him upon the subject, all he would say was, --

"My good friends, you perceive that, there is a great mystery somewhere, and I do hope that to-night it will be cleared up satisfactorily. "

With this they were compelled to be satisfied; and now the soft andsombre shades of evening began to creep over the scene, enveloping allobjects in the dimness and repose of early night. 

The noise from the house had ceased, and all was profoundly still. Butmore than once Henry fancied he heard footsteps outside the garden. 

He mentioned his suspicions to Charles Holland, who immediately said, --

"The same thing has come to my ears. "

"Indeed! Then it must be so; we cannot both of us have merely imaginedsuch a thing. You may depend that this place is beleaguered in some way, and that to-night will be productive of events which will throw a greatlight upon the affairs connected with this vampyre that have hithertobaffled conjecture. "

"Hush!" said Charles; "there, again; I am quite confident I heard asound as of a broken twig outside the garden-wall. The doctor and theadmiral are in deep discussion about something, --shall we tell them?"

"No; let us listen, as yet. "

They bent all their attention to listening, inclining their ears towardsthe ground, and, after a few moments, they felt confident that more thanone footstep was creeping along, as cautiously as possible, under thegarden wall. After a few moments' consultation, Henry made up hismind--he being the best acquainted with the localities of the place--togo and reconnoitre, so he, without saying anything to the doctor or theadmiral, glided from where he was, in the direction of a part of thefence which he knew he could easily scale. 

CHAPTER LXXIX. 

THE VAMPYRE'S DANGER. --THE LAST REFUGE. --THE RUSE OF HENRY BANNERWORTH. 

[Illustration]

Yet knowing to what deeds of violence the passions of a lawless mob willsometimes lead them, and having the experience of what had beenattempted by the alarmed and infuriated populace on a former occasion, against the Hall, Henry Bannerworth was, reasonably enough, not withouthis fears that something might occur of a nature yet highly dangerous tothe stability of his ancient house. 

He did not actually surmount the fence, but he crept so close to it, that he could get over in a moment, if he wished; and, if any one shouldmove or speak on the other side, he should be quite certain to hearthem. 

For a few moments all was still, and then suddenly he heard some onesay, in a low voice, "Hist! hist! did you hear nothing?"

"I thought I did, " said another; "but I now am doubtful. "

"Listen again. "

"What, " thought Henry, "can be the motives of these men lying secretedhere? It is most extraordinary what they can possibly want, unless theyare brewing danger for the Hall. "

Most cautiously now he raised himself, so that his eyes could just lookover the fence, and then, indeed, he was astonished. 

He had expected to see two or three persons, at the utmost; what was hissurprise! to find a compact mass of men crouching down under the gardenwall, as far as his eye could reach. 

For a few moments, he was so surprised, that he continued to gaze on, heedless of the danger there might be from a discovery that he wasplaying the part of a spy upon them. 

When, however, his first sensations of surprise were over, he cautiouslyremoved to his former position, and, just as he did, so, he heard thosewho had before spoken, again, in low tones, breaking the stillness ofthe night. 

"I am resolved upon it, " said one; "I am quite determined. I will, please God, rid the country of that dreadful man. "

"Don't call him a man, " said the oilier. 

"Well, well; it is a wrong name to apply to a vampyre. "

"It is Varney, after all, then, " said Henry. Bannerworth, tohimself;--"it is his life that they seek. What can be done to savehim?--for saved he shall be if I can compass such an object. I feel thatthere is yet a something in his character which is entitled toconsideration, and he shall not be savagely murdered while I have an armto raise in his defence. But if anything is now to be done, it must bedone by stratagem, for the enemy are, by far, in too great force to bepersonally combatted with. "

Henry resolved to take the advice of his friends, and with that view hewent silently and quietly back to where they were, and communicated tothem the news that he had so unexpectedly discovered. 

They were all much surprised, and then the doctor said, "You may depend, that since the disappointment of the mob in thedestruction of this place, they have had their eye upon Varney. He hasbeen dogged here by some one, and then by degrees that assemblage hassought the spot. "

"He's a doomed man, then, " remarked the admiral; "for what can save himfrom a determined number of persons, who, by main force, will overcomeus, let us make what stand we may in his defence. "

"Is there no hiding-place in the house, " said Charles, "where you might, after warring him of his danger, conceal him?"

"There are plenty, but of what avail would that be, if they burn downthe Hall, which in all probability they will!"

"None, certainly. "

"There is but one chance, " said Henry, "and that is to throw them offthe scent, and induce them to think that he whom they seek is not here;I think that may possibly be done by boldness. "

"But how!"

"I will go among them and make the effort. "

He at once left the friends, for he felt that there might be no time tolose, and hastening to the same part of the wall, ever which he hadlooked so short a time before, he clambered over it, and cried, in aloud voice, "Stop the vampyre! stop the vampyre!"

"Where, where?" shouted a number of persons at once, turning their eyeseagerly towards the spot where Henry stood. 

"There, across the fields, " cried Henry. "I have lain in wait for himlong; but he has eluded me, and is making his way again towards the oldruins, where I am sure he has some hiding-place that he thinks willelude all search. There, I see his dusky form speeding onwards. "

"Come on, " cried several; "to the ruins! to the ruins! We'll smoke himout if he will not come by fair means: we must have him, dead or alive. "

"Yes, to the ruins!" shouted the throng of persons, who up to this timehad preserved so cautious a silence, and, in a few moments more, HenryBannerworth had the satisfaction of finding that his ruse had beenperfectly successful, for Bannerworth Hall and its vicinity werecompletely deserted, and the mob, in a straggling mass, went over hedgeand ditch towards those ruins in which there was nothing to reward theexertions they might choose to make in the way of an exploration ofthem, but the dead body of the villain Marchdale, who had come there toso dreadful, but so deserved a death. 

CHAPTER LXXX. 

THE DISCOVERY OF THE BODY OF MARCHDALE IN THE RUINS BY THE MOB. --THEBURNING OF THE CORPSE. --THE MURDER OF THE HANGMAN. 

[Illustration]

The mob reached the ruins of Bannerworth Hall, and crowded round it onall sides, with the view of ascertaining if a human creature, dead oralive, were there; various surmises were afloat, and some were forconsidering that everybody but themselves, or their friends, must benothing less than vampyres. Indeed, a strange man, suddenly appearingamong them, would have caused a sensation, and a ring would no doubthave been formed round him, and then a hasty council held, or, what wasmore probable, some shout, or word uttered by some one behind, who couldnot understand what was going on in front, would have determined them tocommit some desperate outrage, and the sacrifice of life would have beenthe inevitable result of such an unfortunate concurrence ofcircumstances. 

There was a pause before anyone ventured among the ruins; the walls werecarefully looked to, and in more than one instance, but they were founddangerous, what were remaining; some parts had been so completelydestroyed, that there were nothing but heaps of rubbish. 

However, curiosity was exerted to such an extraordinary pitch that itovercame the fear of danger, in search of the horrible; for theybelieved that if there were any one in the ruins he must be a vampyre, of course, and they were somewhat cautious in going near such acreature, lest in so doing they should meet with some accident, andbecome vampyres too. 

This was a dreadful reflection, and one that every now and thenimpressed itself upon the individuals composing the mob; but at the sametime any new impulse, or a shout, and they immediately became insensibleto all fear; the mere impulse is the dominant one, and then all isforgotten. 

The scene was an impressive one; the beautiful house and grounds lookeddesolate and drear; many of the trees were stripped and broken down, andmany scorched and burned, while the gardens and flower beds, the delightof the Bannerworth family, were rudely trodden under foot by the rabble, and all those little beauties so much admired and tended by theinhabitants, were now utterly destroyed, and in such a state that theirsite could not even be detected by the former owners. 

It was a sad sight to see such a sacrilege committed, --such violencedone to private feelings, as to have all these places thrown open to thescrutiny of the brutal and vulgar, who are incapable of appreciating orunderstanding the pleasures of a refined taste. 

The ruins presented a remarkable contrast to what the place had been buta very short time before; and now the scene of desolation was complete, there was no one spot in which the most wretched could find shelter. 

To be sure, under the lee of some broken and crumbling wall, thattottered, rather than stood, a huddled wretch might have found shelterfrom the wind, but it would have been at the risk of his life, and notthere complete. 

The mob became quiet for some moments, but was not so long; indeed, amob of people, --which is, in fact, always composed of the mostdisorderly characters to be found in a place, is not exactly theassembly that is most calculated for quietness; somebody gave a shout, and then somebody else shouted, and the one wide throat of the wholeconcourse was opened, and sent forth a mighty yell. 

After this exhibition of power, they began to run about likemad, --traverse the grounds from one end to the other, and then the ruinswere in progress of being explored. 

This was a tender affair, and had to be done with some care and cautionby those who were so engaged; and they walked over crumbling and decayedmasses. 

In one or two places, they saw what appeared to be large holes, intowhich the building materials had been sunk, by their own weight, throughthe flooring, that seemed as roofs to some cellars or dungeons. 

Seeing this, they knew not how soon some other part might sink in, andcarry their precious bodies down with the mass of rubbish; this gave aninterest to the scene, --a little danger is a sort of salt to anadventure, and enables those who have taken part in it to talk of theirexploits, and of their dangers, which is pleasant to do, and to hear inthe ale-house, and by the inglenook in the winter. 

However, when a few had gone some distance, others followed, when theysaw them enter the place in safety: and at length the whole ruins werecovered with living men, and not a few women, who seemed necessary tomake up the elements of mischief in this case. 

There were some shouting and hallooing from one to the other as theyhurried about the ruins. 

At length they had explored the ruins nearly all over, when one man, whohad stood a few minutes upon a spot, gazing intently upon something, suddenly exclaimed, --

"Hilloa! hurrah! here we are, altogether, --come on, --I've foundhim, --I've found--recollect it's me, and nobody else hasfound, --hurrah!"

Then, with a wild kind of frenzy, he threw his hat up into the air, asif to attract attention, and call others round him, to see what it washe had found. 

"What's the matter, Bill?" exclaimed one who came up to him, and who hadbeen close at hand. 

"The matter? why, I've found him; that's the matter, old man, " repliedthe first. 

"What, a whale?

"No, a wampyre; the blessed wampyre! there he is, --don't you see himunder them ere bricks?"

"Oh, that's not him; he got away. "

"I don't care, " replied the other, "who got away, or who didn't; I knowthis much, that he's a wampyre, --he wouldn't be there if he warn't. "

This was an unanswerable argument, and nobody could deny it;consequently, there was a cessation of talk, and the people then cameup, as the two first were looking at the body. 

"Whose is it?" inquired a dozen voices. 

[Illustration]

"Not Sir Francis Varney's!" said the second speaker; the clothes are nothis--"

"No, no; not Sir Francis's"

"But I tell you what, mates, " said the first speaker; "that if it isn'tSir Francis Varney's, it is somebody else's as bad. I dare say, now, he's a wictim. "

"A what!"

"A wictim to the wampyre; and, if he sees the blessed moonlight, he willbe a wampyre hisself, and so shall we be, too, if he puts his teeth intous. "

"So we shall, --so we shall, " said the mob, and their flesh begin to runcold, and there was a feeling of horror creeping over the whole body ofpersons within hearing. 

"I tell you what it is; our only plan will be to get him out of theruins, then, remarked another. 

"What!" said one; "who's going to handle such cattle? if you've a soreabout you, and his blood touches you, who's to say you won't be avampyre, too!"

"No, no you won't, " said an old woman. 

"I won't try, " was the happy rejoinder; "I ain't a-going to carry awampyre on my two legs home to my wife and small family of sevenchildren, and another a-coming. "

There was a pause for a few moments, and then one man more adventurousthan the rest, exclaimed, --

"Well, vampyre, or no vampyre, his dead body can harm no one; so heregoes to get it out, help me who will; once have it out, and then we canprevent any evil, by burning it, and thus destroying the whole body. 

"Hurrah!" shouted three or four more, as they jumped down into the holeformed by the falling in of the materials which had crushed Marchdale todeath, for it was his body they had discovered. 

They immediately set to work to displace such of the materials as lay onthe body, and then, having cleared it of all superincumbent rubbish, they proceeded to lift it up, but found that it had got entangled, asthey called it, with some chains: with some trouble they got them off, and the body was lifted out to a higher spot. 

"Now, what's to be done?" inquired one. 

"Burn it, " said another. 

"Hurrah!" shouted a female voice; "we've got the wampyre! run a stakethrough his body, and then place him upon some dry wood, --there's plentyto be had about here, I am sure, --and then burn him to a cinder. "

"That's right, old woman, --that's right, " said a man; "nothing better:the devil must be in him if he come to life after that, I should say. "

There might be something in that, and the mob shouted its approbation, as it was sure to do as anything stupid or senseless, and the proposalmight be said to have been carried by acclamation, and it required onlythe execution. 

This was soon done. There were plenty of laths and rafters, and theadjoining wood furnished an abundant supply of dry sticks, so there wasno want of fuel. 

There was a loud shout as each accession of sticks took place, and, aseach individual threw his bundle into the heap, each man felt all theself-devotion to the task as the Scottish chieftain who sacrificedhimself and seven sons in the battle for his superior; and, when one sonwas cut down, the man filled up his place with the exclamation, --"Anotherfor Hector, " until he himself fell as the last of his race. 

Soon now the heap became prodigious, and it required an effort to getthe mangled corpse upon this funeral bier; but it was then a shout fromthe mob that rent the air announced, both the fact and theirsatisfaction. 

The next thing to be done was to light the pile--this was no easy task;but like all others, it was accomplished, and the dead body of thevampyre's victim was thrown on to prevent that becoming a vampyre too, in its turn. 

"There, boys, " said one, "he'll not see the moonlight, that's certain, and the sooner we put a light to this the better; for it may be, thesoldiers will be down upon us before we know anything of it; so now, who's got a light?"

This was a question that required a deal of searching; but, at lengthone was found by one of the mob coming forward, and after drawing hispipe vigorously for some moments, he collected some scraps of paper uponwhich he emptied the contents of the pipe, with the hope they would takefire. 

In this, however, he was doomed to disappointment; for it producednothing but a deal of smoke, and the paper burned without producing anyflame. 

This act of disinterestedness, however was not without its dueconsequences, for there were several who had pipes, and, fired with thehope of emulating the first projector of the scheme for raising theflame, they joined together, and potting the contents of their pipestogether on some paper, straw, and chips, they produced, after somelittle trouble, a flame. 

Then there was a shout, and the burning mass was then placed in afavourable position nearer the pile of materials collected for burning, and then, in a few moments, it began to take light; one piececommunicated the fire to another, until the whole was in a blaze. 

When the first flame fairly reached the top, a loud and tremendous shoutarose from the mob, and the very welkin re-echoed with its fulness. 

Then the forked flames rushed through the wood, and hissed and crackledas they flew, throwing up huge masses of black smoke, and casting apeculiar reflection around. Not a sound was heard save the hissing androaring of the flames, which seemed like the approaching of a furiouswhirlwind. 

At length there was nothing to be seen but the blackened mass; it wasenveloped in one huge flame, that threw out a great heat, so much so, that those nearest to it felt induced to retire from before it. 

"I reckon, " said one, "that he's pretty well done by this time--he's hada warm berth of it up there. "

"Yes, " said another, "farmer Walkings's sheep he roasted whole at lastharvest-home hadn't such a fire as this, I'll warrant; there's no suchfire in the county--why, it would prevent a frost, I do believe itwould. "

"So it would, neighbour, " answered another. 

"Yes, " replied a third, "but you'd want such a one corner of each fieldthough. "

 * * * * *

There was much talk and joking going on among the men who stood around, in the midst of which, however, they were disturbed by a loud shout, andupon looking in the quarter whence it came, they saw stealing from amongthe ruins, the form of a man. 

He was a strange, odd looking man, and at the time it was very doubtfulamong the mob as to whom it was--nobody could tell, and more than onelooked at the burning pile, and then at the man who seemed to be somysteriously present, as if they almost imagined that the body had gotaway. 

"Who is it?" exclaimed one. 

"Danged if I knows, " said another, looking very hard, and very white atthe same time;--"I hope it ain't the chap what we've burned here jistnow. "

"No, " said the female, "that you may be sure of, for he's had a stakethrough his body, and as you said, he can never get over that, for asthe stake is consumed, so are his vitals, and that's a sure sign he'sdone for. "

"Yes, yes, she's right--a vampyre may live upon blood, but cannot dowithout his inside. "

This was so obvious to them all, that it was at once conceded, and ageneral impression pervaded the mob that it might be Sir Francis Varney:a shout ensued. 

"Hurrah!--After him--there's a vampyre--there he goes!--after him--catchhim--burn him!"

And a variety of other exclamations were uttered, at the same time; thevictim of popular wrath seemed to be aware that he was now discovered, and made off with all possible expedition, towards some wood. 

Away went the mob in pursuit, hooting and hallooing like demons, anddenouncing the unfortunate being with all the terrors that could beimagined, and which naturally added greater speed to the unfortunateman. 

However, some among the mob, seeing that there was every probability ofthe stranger's escaping at a mere match of speed, brought a littlecunning to bear upon matter, and took a circuit round, and thusintercepted him. 

This was not accomplished without a desperate effort, and by the bestrunners, who thus reached the spot he made for, before he could getthere. 

When the stranger saw himself thus intercepted, he endeavoured to fly ina different direction; but was soon secured by the mob, who madesomewhat free with his person, and commenced knocking him about. 

"Have mercy on me, " said the stranger. "What do you want? I am not rich;but take all I have. "

"What do you do here?" inquired twenty voices. "Come, tell us that--whatdo you do here, and who are you?"

"A stranger, quite a stranger to these parts. "

"Oh, yes! he's a stranger; but that's all the worse for him--he's avampyre--there's no doubt about that. "

"Good God, " said the man, "I am a living and breathing man likeyourselves. I have done no wrong, and injured no man--be merciful untome; I intend no harm. "

"Of course not; send him to the fire--take him back to the ruins--to thefire. "

"Ay, and run a stake through his body, and then he's safe for life. I amsure he has something to do with the vampyre; and who knows, if he ain'ta vampyre, how soon he may become one?"

"Ah! that's very true; bring him back to the fire, and we'll try theeffects of the fire upon his constitution. "

"I tell you what, neighbour, it's my opinion, that as one fool makesmany, so one vampyre makes many. "

"So it does, so it does; there's much truth and reason in thatneighbour; I am decidedly of that opinion, too. "

"Come along then, " cried the mob, cuffing and pulling the unfortunatestranger with them. 

"Mercy, mercy!"

But it was useless to call for mercy to men whose superstitious feelingsurged them on; far when the demon of superstition is active, no matterwhat form it may take, it always results in cruelty and wickedness toall. 

Various were the shouts and menaces of the mob, and the stranger saw nohope of life unless he could escape from the hands of the people whosurrounded him. 

They had now nearly reached the ruins, and the stranger, who wascertainly a somewhat odd and remarkable looking man, and who appeared intheir eyes the very impersonation of their notions of a vampyre, wasthrust from one to the other, kicked by one, and then cuffed by theother, as if he was doomed to run the gauntlet. 

"Down with the vampyre!" said the mob. 

"I am no vampyre, " said the stranger; "I am new to these parts, and Ipray you have mercy upon me. I have done you no wrong. Hear me, --I knownothing of these people of whom you speak. "

"That won't do; you've come here to see what you can do, I dare say;and, though you may have been hurt by the vampyre, and may be only yourmisfortune, and not your fault, yet the mischief is as great as ever itwas or can be, you become, in spite of yourself, a vampyre, and do thesame injury to others that has been done to you--there's no help foryou. "

"No help, --we can't help it, " shouted the mob; "he must die, --throw himon the pile. "

"Put a stake through him first, though, " exclaimed the humane female;"put a stake through him, and then he's safe. "

This horrible advice had an electric effect on the stranger, who jumpedup, and eluded the grasp of several hands that were stretched forth toseize him. 

"Throw him upon the burning wood!" shouted one. 

"And a stake through his body, " suggested the humane female again, whoseemed to have this one idea in her heart, and no other, and, upon everyavailable opportunity, she seemed to be anxious to give utterance to thecomfortable notion. 

"Seize him!" exclaimed one. 

"Never let him go, " said another; "we've gone too far to hang back now;and, if he escape, he will visit us in our sleep, were it only out ofspite. "

The stranger made a dash among the ruins, and, for a moment, out-stripped his pursuers; but a few, more adventurous than the rest, succeeded in driving him into an angle formed by two walls, and theconsequence was, he was compelled to come to a stand. 

"Seize him--seize him!" exclaimed all those at a distance. 

The stranger, seeing he was now nearly surrounded, and had no chance ofescape, save by some great effort, seized a long piece of wood, andstruck two of his assailants down at once, and then dashed through theopening. 

He immediately made for another part of the ruins, and succeeded inmaking his escape for some short distance, but was unable to keep up thespeed that was required, for his great exertion before had nearlyexhausted him, and the fear of a cruel death before his eyes was notenough to give him strength, or lend speed to his flight. He hadsuffered too much from violence, and, though he ran with great speed, yet those who followed were uninjured, and fresher, --he had no chance. 

They came very close upon him at the corner of a field, which heendeavoured to cross, and had succeeded in doing, and he made adesperate attempt to scramble up the bank that divided the field fromthe next, but he slipped back, almost exhausted, into the ditch, and thewhole mob came up. 

However, he got on the bank, and leaped into the next field, and then hewas immediately surrounded by those who pursued him, and he was struckdown. 

"Down with the vampyre!--kill him, --he's one of 'em, --run a stakethrough him!" were a few of the cries of the infuriated mob of people, who were only infuriated because he attempted to escape their murderousintentions. 

It was strange to see how they collected in a ring as the unfortunateman lay on the ground, panting for breath, and hardly able tospeak--their infuriated countenances plainly showing the mischief theywere intent upon. 

"Have mercy upon me!" he exclaimed, as he lay on the earth; "I have nopower to help myself. "

The mob returned no answer, but stood collecting their numbers as theycame up. 

"Have mercy on me! it cannot be any pleasure to you to spill my blood. Iam unable to resist--I am one man among many, --you surely cannot wish tobeat me to death?"

"We want to hurt no one, except in our own defence, and we won't be madevampyres of because you don't like to die. "

"No, no; we won't be vampyres, " exclaimed the mob, and there arose agreat shout from the mob. 

"Are you men--fathers?--have you families? if so, I have the same tiesas you have; spare me for their sakes, --do not murder me, --you willleave one an orphan if you do; besides, what have I done? I have injuredno one. "

"I tell you what, friends, if we listen to him we shall all be vampyres, and all our children will all be vampyres and orphans. "

"So we shall, so we shall; down with him!"

The man attempted to get up, but, in doing so, he received a heavy blowfrom a hedge-stake, wielded by the herculean arm of a peasant. The soundof the blow was heard by those immediately around, and the man felldead. There was a pause, and those nearest, apparently fearful of theconsequences, and hardly expecting the catastrophe, began to disperse, and the remainder did so very soon afterwards. 

CHAPTER LXXXI. 

THE VAMPYRE'S FLIGHT. --HIS DANGER, AND THE LAST PLACE OF REFUGE. 

[Illustration]

Leaving the disorderly and vicious mob, who were thus sacrificing humanlife to their excited passions, we return to the brothers Bannerworthand the doctor, who together with Admiral Bell, still held watch overthe hall. 

No indication of the coming forth of Varney presented itself for sometime longer, and then, at least they thought, they heard a window open;and, turning their eyes in the direction whence the sound proceeded, they could see the form of a man slowly and cautiously emerging from it. 

As far as they could judge, from the distance at which they were, thatform partook much of the appearance and the general aspect of SirFrancis Varney, and the more they looked and noticed its movements, themore they felt convinced that such was the fact. 

"There comes your patient, doctor, " said the admiral. 

"Don't call him my patient, " said the doctor, "if you please. "

"Why you know he is; and you are, in a manner of speaking, bound to lookafter him. Well, what is to be done?"

"He must not, on any account, " said Dr. Chillingworth, "be allowed toleave the place. Believe me, I have the very strongest reasons forsaying so. "

"He shall not leave it then, " said Henry. 

Even as he spoke, Henry Bannerworth darted forward, and Sir FrancisVarney dropped from the window, out of which he had clambered, close tohis feet. 

"Hold!" cried Henry, "you are my prisoner. "

With the most imperturbable coolness in the world, Sir Francis Varneyturned upon him, and replied, --

"And pray, Henry Bannerworth, what have I done to provoke your wrath?"

"What have you done?--have you not, like a thief, broken into my house?Can you ask what you have done?"

"Ay, " said the vampyre, "like a thief, perchance, and yet no thief. MayI ask you, what there is to steal, in the house?"

By the time this short dialogue had been uttered, the rest of the partyhad come up, and Varney was, so far as regarded numbers, a prisoner. 

"Well, gentlemen, " he said, with that strange contortion of countenancewhich, now they all understood, arose from the fact of his having beenhanged, and restored to life again. "Well, gentlemen, now that you havebeleaguered me in such a way, may I ask you what it is about?"

"If you will step aside with me, Sir Francis Varney, for a moment, " saidDr. Chillingworth, "I will make to you a communication which will enableyou to know what it is all about. "

"Oh, with pleasure, " said the vampyre. "I am not ill at present; butstill, sir, I have no objection to hear what you have to say. "

He stepped a few paces on one side with the doctor, while the otherswaited, not without some amount of impatience for the result of thecommunication. All that they could hear was, that Varney said, suddenly--

"You are quite mistaken. "

And then the doctor appeared to be insisting upon something, which thevampyre listened to patiently; and, at the end, burst out with, --

"Why, doctor, you must be dreaming. "

At this, Dr. Chillingworth at once left him, and advancing to hisfriends, he said, --

"Sir Francis Varney denies in toto all that I have related to youconcerning him; therefore, I can say no more than that I earnestlyrecommend you, before you let him go, to see that he takes nothing ofvalue with him. "

"Why, what can you mean?" said Varney. 

"Search him, " said the doctor; "I will tell you why, very shortly. "

"Indeed--indeed!" said Sir Francis Varney. "Now, gentlemen, I will giveyou a chance of behaving justly and quietly, so saving yourself thedanger of acting otherwise. I have made repeated offers to take thishouse, either as a tenant or as a purchaser, all of which offers havebeen declined, upon, I dare say, a common enough principle, namely, onewhich induces people to enhance the value of anything they have fordisposal, if it be unique, by making it difficult to come at. Seeingthat you had deserted the place, I could make no doubt but that it wasto be had, so I came here to make a thorough examination of itsinterior, to see if it would suit me. I find that it will not;therefore, I have only to apologise for the intrusion, and to wish you aremarkably good evening. "

"That won't do, " said the doctor. 

"What won't do, sir?"

"This excuse will not do, Sir Francis Varney. You are, although you denyit, the man who was hanged in London some years ago for a highwayrobbery. "

Varney laughed, and held up his hands, exclaiming, --

"Alas! alas! our good friend, the doctor, has studied too hard; hiswits, probably, at the best of times, none of the clearest, have becomehopelessly entangled. "

"Do you deny, " said Henry, "then, that you are that man?"

"Most unequivocally. "

"I assert it, " said the doctor, "and now, I will tell you all, for Iperceive you hesitate about searching, Sir Francis Varney, I tell youall why it is that he has such an affection for Bannerworth Hall. "

"Before you do, " said Varney, "there is a pill for you, which you mayfind more nauseous and harder of digestion, than any your shop canfurnish. "

As Varney uttered these words, he suddenly drew from his pocket apistol, and, levelling it at the unfortunate doctor, he fired it full athim. 

The act was so sudden, so utterly unexpected, and so stunning, that itwas done before any one could move hand or foot to prevent it. HenryBannerworth and his brother were the furthest off from the vampyre; and, unhappily, in the rush which they, as soon us possible, made towardshim, they knocked down the admiral, who impeded them much; and, beforethey could spring over, or past him, Sir Francis Varney was gone. 

So sudden, too, had been his departure, that they had not the least ideain which direction he had gone; so that to follow him would have been awork of the greatest possible difficulty. 

Notwithstanding, however, both the difficulty and the danger, for nodoubt the vampyre was well enough armed, Henry and his brother bothrushed after the murderer, as they now believed him to be, in the routewhich they thought it was most probable he would take, namely, thatwhich led towards the garden gate. 

They reached that spot in a few moments, but all was profoundly still. Not the least trace of any one could be seen, high or low, and they werecompelled, after a cursory examination, to admit that Sir Francis Varneyhad again made his escape, despite the great odds that were against himin point of numbers. 

"He has gone, " said Henry. "Let us go back, and see into the state ofpoor Dr. Chillingworth, who, I fear, is a dead man. "

They hurried back to the spot, and there they found the admiral lookingas composed as possible, and solacing himself with a pinch of snuff, ashe gazed upon the apparently lifeless form at his feet. 

"Is he dead?" said Henry. 

"I should say he was, " replied the admiral; "such a shot as that wasdon't want to be repeated. Well, I liked the doctor with all his faults. He only had one foolish way with him, and that was, that he shirked hisgrog. "

"This is an awful catastrophe, " said Henry, as he knelt down by the sideof the body. "Assist me, some of you. Where is Charles?"

"I'll be hanged, " said the admiral, "if I know. He disappearedsomewhere. "

"This is a night of mystery as well as terror. Alas! poor Dr. Chillingworth! I little thought that you would have fallen a victim tothe man whom you preserved from death. How strange it is that you shouldhave snatched from the tomb the very individual who was, eventually, totake your own life. "

The brothers gently raised the body of the doctor, and carried it on tothe glass plot, which was close at hand. 

"Farewell, kind and honest-hearted Chillingworth, " said Henry; "I shall, many and many a time, feel your loss; and now I will rest not until Ihave delivered up to justice your murderer. All consideration, orfeeling, for what seemed to be latent virtues in that strange andinexplicable man, Varney, shall vanish, and he shall reap theconsequences of the crime he has now committed. "

"It was a cold blooded, cowardly murder, " said his brother. 

"It was; but you may depend the doctor was about to reveal something tous, which Varney so much dreaded, that he took his life as the onlyeffectual way, at the moment, of stopping him. "

"It must be so, " said Henry. 

"And now, " said the admiral, "it's too late, and we shall not know it atall. That's the way. A fellow saves up what he has got to tell till itis too late to tell it, and down he goes to Davy Jones's locker with allhis secrets aboard. "

"Not always, " said Dr. Chillingworth, suddenly sitting boltupright--"not always. "

Henry and his brother started back in amazement, and the admiral was sotaken by surprise, that had not the resuscitated doctor suddenlystretched out his hand and laid hold of him by the ankle, he would havemade a precipitate retreat. 

"Hilloa! murder!" he cried. "Let me go! How do I know but you may be avampyre by now, as you were shot by one. "

Henry soonest recovered from the surprise of the moment, and with themost unfeigned satisfaction, he cried, --

"Thank God you are unhurt, Dr. Chillingworth! Why he must have missedyou by a miracle. "

"Not at all, " said the doctor. "Help me up--thank you--all right. I'monly a little singed about the whiskers. He hit me safe enough. "

"Then how have you escaped?"

"Why from the want of a bullet in the pistol, to be sure. I canunderstand it all well enough. He wanted to create sufficient confusionto cover a desperate attempt to escape, and he thought that would bebest done by seeming so shoot me. The suddenness of the shock, and thefull belief, at the moment, that he had sent a bullet into my brains, made me fall, and produced a temporary confusion of ideas, amounting toinsensibility. "

"From which you are happily recovered. Thank Heaven that, after all, heis not such a villain as this act would have made him. "

"Ah!" said the admiral, "it takes people who have lived a little inthese affairs to know the difference in sound between a firearm with abullet in it, and one without. I knew it was all right. "

"Then why did you not say so, admiral?"

"What was the use? I thought the doctor might be amused to know what youshould say of him, so you see I didn't interfere; and, as I am not agood hand at galloping after anybody, I didn't try that part of thebusiness, but just remained where I was. "

"Alas! alas!" cried the doctor, "I much fear that, by his going, I havelost all that I expected to be able to do for you, Henry. It's of notthe least use now telling you or troubling you about it. You may nowsell or let Bannerworth Hall to whomever you please, for I am afraid itis really worthless. "

"What on earth do you mean?" said Henry. "Why, doctor, will you keep upthis mystery among us? If you have anything to say, why not say it atonce?"

"Because, I tell you it's of no use now. The game is up, Sir FrancisVarney has escaped; but still I don't know that I need exactlyhesitate. "

"There can be no reason for your hesitating about making a communicationto us, " said Henry. "It is unfriendly not to do so. "

"My dear boy, you will excuse me for saying that you don't know what youare talking about. "

"Can you give any reason?"

"Yes; respect for the living. I should have to relate something of thedead which would be hurtful to their feelings. "

Henry was silent for a few moments, and then he said, --

"What dead? And who are the living?"

"Another time, " whispered the doctor to him; "another time, Henry. Donot press me now. But you shall know all another time. "

"I must be content. But now let us remember that another man yet lingersin Bannerworth Hall. I will endure suspense on his account no longer. Heis an intruder there; so I go at once to dislodge him. "

No one made any opposition to this move, not even the doctor; so Henrypreceded them all to the house. They passed through the open window intothe long hall, and from thence into every apartment of the mansion, without finding the object of their search. But from one of the windowsup to which there grew great masses of ivy, there hung a rope, by whichany one might easily have let himself down; and no doubt, therefore, existed in all their minds that the hangman had sufficiently profited bythe confusion incidental to the supposed shooting of the doctor, to makegood his escape from the place. 

"And so, after all, " said Henry, "we are completely foiled?"

"We may be, " said Dr. Chillingworth; "but it is, perhaps, going too farto say that we actually are. One thing, however, is quite clear; andthat is, no good can be done here. "

"Then let us go home, " said the admiral. "I did not think from the firstthat any good would be done here. "

They all left the garden together now; so that almost for the firsttime, Bannerworth Hall was left to itself, unguarded and unwatched byany one whatever. It was with an evident and a marked melancholy thatthe doctor proceeded with the party to the cottage-house of theBannerworths; but, as after what he had said, Henry forbore to questionhim further upon those subjects which he admitted he was keeping secret;and as none of the party were much in a cue for general conversation, the whole of them walked on with more silence than usually characterisedthem. 

CHAPTER LXXXII. 

CHARLES HOLLAND'S PURSUIT OF THE VAMPYRE. --THE DANGEROUS INTERVIEW. 

[Illustration]

It will be recollected that the admiral had made a remark about CharlesHolland having suddenly disappeared; and it is for us now to account forthat disappearance and to follow him to the pathway he had chosen. 

The fact was, that he, when Varney fired the shot at the doctor, or whatwas the supposed shot, was the farthest from the vampyre; and he, onthat very account, had the clearest and best opportunity of markingwhich route he took when he had discharged the pistol. 

He was not confused by the smoke, as the others were; nor was he stunnedby the noise of the discharge; but he distinctly saw Varney dart acrossone of the garden beds, and make for the summer-house, instead of forthe garden gate, as Henry had supposed was the most probable path he hadchosen. 

Now, Charles Holland either had an inclination, for some reasons of hisown, to follow the vampyre alone; or, on the spur of the moment, he hadnot time to give an alarm to the others; but certain it is that he did, unaided, rush after him. He saw him enter the summer-house, and pass outof it again at the back portion of it, as he had once before done, whensurprised in his interview with Flora. 

But the vampyre did not now, as he had done on the former occasion, hideimmediately behind the summer-house. He seemed to be well aware thatthat expedient would not answer twice; so he at once sped onwards, clearing the garden fence, and taking to the meadows. 

It formed evidently no part of the intentions of Charles Holland to comeup with him. He was resolved upon dogging his footsteps, to know wherehe should go; so that he might have a knowledge of his hiding-place, ifhe had one. 

"I must and will, " said Charles to himself, "penetrate the mystery thathangs about this most strange and inexplicable being. I will have aninterview with him, not in hostility, for I forgive him the evil he hasdone me, but with a kindly spirit; and I will ask him to confide in me. "

Charles, therefore, did not keep so close upon the heels of the vampyreas to excite any suspicions of his intention to follow him; but hewaited by the garden paling long enough not only for Varney to get somedistance off, but long enough likewise to know that the pistol which hadbeen fired at the doctor had produced no real bad effects, exceptsinging some curious tufts of hair upon the sides of his face, which thedoctor was pleased to call whiskers. 

"I thought as much, " was Charles's exclamation when he heard thedoctor's voice. "It would have been strikingly at variance with allVarney's other conduct, if he had committed such a deliberate andheartless murder. "

Then, as the form of the vampyre could be but dimly seen, Charles ran onfor some distance in the direction he had taken, and then paused again;so that if Varney heard the sound of footsteps, and paused to listenthey had ceased again probably, and nothing was discernible. 

In this manner he followed the mysterious individual, if we may reallycall him such, for above a mile; and then Varney made a rapid detour, and took his way towards the town. 

He went onwards with wonderful precision now in a right line, notstopping at any obstruction, in the way of fences, hedges, or ditches, so that it took Charles some exertion, to which, just then, he wasscarcely equal, to keep up with him. 

At length the outskirts of the town were gained, and then Varney paused, and looked around him, scarcely allowing Charles, who was now closer tohim than he had been, time to hide himself from observation, which, however, he did accomplish, by casting himself suddenly upon the ground, so that he could not be detected against the sky, which then formed aback ground to the spot where he was. 

Apparently satisfied that he had completely now eluded the pursuit, ifany had been attempted, of those whom he had led in such a state ofconfusion, the vampyre walked hastily towards a house that was to let, and which was only to be reached by going up an avenue of trees, andthen unlocking a gate in a wall which bounded the premises next to theavenue. But the vampyre appeared to be possessed of every facility foreffecting an entrance to the place and, producing from his pocket a key, he at once opened the gate, and disappeared within the precincts ofthose premises. 

He, no doubt, felt that he was hunted by the mob of the town, and hencehis frequent change of residence, since his own had been burnt down, and, indeed, situated as he was, there can be no manner of doubt that hewould have been sacrificed to the superstitious fury of the populace, ifthey could but have got hold of him. 

He had, from his knowledge, which was no doubt accurate and complete, ofwhat had been done, a good idea of what his own fate would be, were heto fall into the hands of that ferocious multitude, each individualcomposing which, felt a conviction that there would be no peace, norhope of prosperity or happiness, on the place, until he, the archvampyre of all the supposed vampyres, was destroyed. 

[Illustration]

Charles did pause for a few moments, after having thus become roused, toconsider whether he should then attempt to have the interview he hadresolved upon having by some means or another, or defer it, now that heknew where Varney was to be found, until another time. 

But when he came to consider how extremely likely it was that, even inthe course of a few hours, Varney might shift his abode for some goodand substantial reasons, he at once determined upon attempting to seehim. 

But how to accomplish such a purpose was not the easiest question in theworld to answer. If he rung the bell that presented itself above thegarden gate, was it at all likely that Varney, who had come there forconcealment, would pay any attention to the summons?

After some consideration, he did, however, think of a plan by which, atall events, he could ensure effecting an entrance into the premises, andthen he would take his chance of finding the mysterious being whom hesought, and who probably might have no particular objection to meetingwith him, Charles Holland, because their last interview in the ruinscould not be said to be otherwise than of a peaceable and calm enoughcharacter. 

He saw by the board, which was nailed in the front of the house, thatall applications to see it were to be made to a Mr. Nash, residing closeat hand; and, as Charles had the appearance of a respectable person, hethought he might possibly have the key entrusted to him, ostensibly tolook at the house, preparatory possibly to taking it, and so he should, at all events, obtain admission. 

He, accordingly, went at once to this Mr. Nash, and asked about thehouse; of course he had to affect an interest in its rental andaccommodations, which he did not feel, in order to lull any suspicion, and, finally, he said, --

"I should like to look over it if you will lend me the key, which I willshortly bring back to you. "

There was an evident hesitation about the agent when this proposal wascommunicated by Charles Holland, and he said, --

"I dare say, sir, you wonder that I don't say yes, at once; but the factis there came a gentleman here one day when I was out, and got a key, for we have two to open the house, from my wife, and he never came backagain. "

That this was the means by which Varney, the vampyre, had obtained thekey, by the aid of which Charles had seen him effect so immediate anentrance to the house, there could be no doubt. 

"How long ago were you served that trick?" he said. 

"About two days ago, sir. "

"Well, it only shows how, when one person acts wrongly, another is atonce suspected of a capability to do so likewise. There is my name andmy address; I should like rather to go alone to see the house, because Ialways fancy I can judge better by myself of the accommodation, and Ican stay as long as I like, and ascertain the sizes of all the roomswithout the disagreeable feeling upon my mind, which no amount ofcomplaisance on your part, could ever get me over, that I was mostunaccountably detaining somebody from more important business of theirown. "

"Oh, I assure you, sir, " said Mr. Nash, "that I should not be at allimpatient. But if you would rather go alone--"

"Indeed I would. "

"Oh, then, sir, there is the key. A gentleman who leaves his name andaddress, of course, we can have no objection to. I only told you of whathappened, sir, in the mere way of conversation, and I hope you won'timagine for a moment that I meant to insinuate that you were going tokeep the key. "

"Oh, certainly not--certainly not, " said Charles, who was only too gladto get the key upon any terms. "You are quite right, and I beg you willsay no more about it; I quite understand. "

He then walked off to the empty house again, and, proceeding to theavenue, he fitted the key to the lock, and had the satisfaction offinding the gate instantly yield to him. 

When he passed through it, and closed the door after him, which he didcarefully, he found himself in a handsomely laid-out garden, and saw thehouse a short distance in front of him, standing upon a well got-uplawn. 

He cared not if Varney should see him before he reached the house, because the fact was sufficiently evident to himself that after all hecould not actually enforce an interview with the vampyre. He only hopedthat as he had found him out it would be conceded to him. 

He, therefore, walked up the lawn without making the least attempt atconcealment, and when he reached the house he allowed his footsteps tomake what noise they would upon the stone steps which led up to it. Butno one appeared; nor was there, either by sight or by sound, anyindication of the presence of any living being in the place besideshimself. 

Insensibly, as he contemplated the deserted place around him, the solemnsort of stillness began to have its effect upon his imagination, and, without being aware that he did so, he had, with softness and caution, glided onwards, as if he were bent on some errand requiring the utmostamount of caution and discrimination in the conduction of it. 

And so he entered the hall of the house, where he stood some time, andlistened with the greatest attention, without, however, being able tohear the least sound throughout the whole of the house. 

"And yet he must be here, " thought Charles to himself; "I was not gonemany minutes, and it is extremely unlikely that in so short a space oftime he has left, after taking so much trouble, by making such a detouraround the meadows to get here, without being observed. I will examineevery room in the place, but I will find him. "

Charles immediately commenced going from room to room of that house inhis search for the vampyre. There were but four apartments upon theground floor, and these, of course, he quickly ran through. Nothingwhatever at all indicative of any one having been there met his gaze, and with a feeling of disappointment creeping over him, he commenced theascent of the staircase. 

The day had now fairly commenced, so that there was abundance of light, although, even for the country, it was an early hour, and probably Mr. Nash had been not a little surprised to have a call from one whoseappearance bespoke no necessity for rising with the lark at such anhour. 

All these considerations, however, sank into insignificance in Charles'smind, compared with the object he had in view, namely, the unravellingthe many mysteries that hung around that man. He ascended to the landingof the first story, and then, as he could have no choice, he opened thefirst door that his eyes fell upon, and entered a tolerably largeapartment. It was quite destitute of furniture, and at the momentCharles was about to pronounce it empty; but then his eyes fell upon alarge black-looking bundle of something, that seemed to be lying jammedup under the window on the floor--that being the place of all others inthe room which was enveloped in the most shadow. 

He started back involuntarily at the moment, for the appearance was oneso shapeless, that there was no such thing as defining, from even thatdistance, what it really was. 

Then he slowly and cautiously approached it, as we always approach thatof the character of which we are ignorant, and concerning the powers ofwhich to do injury we can consequently have no defined idea. 

That it was a human form there, was the first tangible opinion he hadabout it; and from its profound stillness, and the manner in which itseemed to be laid close under the window, he thought that he was surelyupon the point of finding out that some deed of blood had beencommitted, the unfortunate victim of which was now lying before him. 

Upon a nearer examination, he found that the whole body, including thegreater part of the head and face, was wrapped in a large cloak; andthere, as he gazed, he soon found cause to correct his first opinion atto the form belonging to the dead, for he could distinctly hear theregular breathing, as of some one in a sound and dreamless sleep. 

Closer he went, and closer still. Then, as he clasped his hands, hesaid, in a voice scarcely above a whisper, --

"It is--it is the vampyre. "

Yes, there could be no doubt of the fact. It was Sir Francis Varney wholay there, enveloped in the huge horseman's cloak, in which, on two orthree occasions during the progress of this narrative, he had figured. There he lay, at the mercy completely of any arm that might be raisedagainst him, apparently so overcome by fatigue that no ordinary noisewould have awakened him. 

Well might Charles Holland gaze at him with mingled feelings. There laythe being who had done almost enough to drive the beautiful FloraBannerworth distracted--the being who had compelled the Bannerworthfamily to leave their ancient house, to which they had been bound byevery description of association. The same mysterious existence, too, who, the better to carry on his plots and plans, had, by dint ofviolence, immured him, Charles, in a dungeon, and loaded him withchains. There he lay sleeping, and at his mercy. 

"Shall I awaken him, " said Charles, "or let him sleep off the fatigue, which, no doubt, is weighing down his limbs, and setting heavily on hiseyelids. No, my business with him is too urgent. "

He then raised his voice, and cried, --

"Varney, Varney, awake!"

The sound disturbed, without altogether breaking up, the deep slumber ofthe vampyre, and he uttered a low moan, and moved one hand restlessly. Then, as if that disturbance of the calm and deep repose which had satupon him, had given at once the reins to fancy, he begin to mutterstrange words in his sleep, some of which could be heard by Charlesdistinctly, while others were too incoherently uttered to be clearlyunderstood. 

"Where is it?" he said; "where--where hidden?--Pull the housedown!--Murder! No, no, no! no murder!--I will not, I dare not. Bloodenough is upon my hands. --The money!--the money! Down, villains! down!down! down!"

What these incoherent words alluded to specifically, Charles, of course, could not have the least idea, but he listened attentively, with a hopethat something might fall from his lips that would afford a key to someof the mysterious circumstances with which he was so intimatelyconnected. 

Now, however, there was a longer silence than before, only brokenoccasionally by low moans; but suddenly, as Charles was thinking ofagain speaking, he uttered some more disjointed sentences. 

"No harm, " he said, "no harm, --Marchdale is a villain!--Not a hair ofhis head injured--no, no. Set him free--yes, I will set him free. Beware! beware, Marchdale! and you Mortimer. The scaffold! ay, thescaffold! but where is the bright gold? The memory of the deed of bloodwill not cling to it. Where is it hidden? The gold! the gold! the gold!It is not in the grave--it cannot be there--no, no, no!--not there, notthere! Load the pistols. There, there! Down, villain, down!--down, down!"

Despairing, now, of obtaining anything like tangible information fromthese ravings, which, even if they did, by accident, so connectthemselves together as to seem to mean something, Charles again criedaloud, --

"Varney, awake, awake!"

But, as before, the sleeping man was sufficiently deaf to the cry toremain, with his eyes closed, still in a disturbed slumber, but yet aslumber which might last for a considerable time. 

"I have heard, " said Charles, "that there are many persons whom no noisewill awaken, while the slightest touch rouses them in an instant. I willtry that upon this slumbering being. "

As he spoke, he advanced close to Sir Francis Varney, and touched himslightly with the toe of his boot. 

The effect was as startling as it was instantaneous. The vampyre sprangto his feet, as he had been suddenly impelled up by some powerfulmachinery; and, casting his cloak away from his arms, so as to have themat liberty, he sprang upon Charles Holland, and hurled him to theground, where he held him with a giant's gripe, as he cried, --

"Rash fool! be you whom you may. Why have you troubled me to rid theworld of your intrusive existence?"

The attack was so sudden and so terrific, that resistance to it, even ifCharles had had the power, was out of the question. All he could say, was, --

"Varney, Varney! do you not know me? I am Charles Holland. Will you now, in your mad rage, take the life you might more easily have taken when Ilay in the dungeon from which you released me?"

The sound of his voice at once convinced Sir Francis Varney of hisidentity; and it was with a voice that had some tones of regret in it, that he replied, --

"And wherefore have you thought proper, when you were once free andunscathed, to cast yourself into such a position of danger as to followme to my haunt?"

"I contemplated no danger, " said Charles, "because I contemplated noevil. I do not know why you should kill me. "

"You came here, and yet you say you do not know why I should kill you. Young man, have you a dozen lives that you can afford to tamper withthem thus? I have, at much chance of imminence to myself, already oncesaved you, when another, with a sterner feeling, would have gladly takenyour life; but now, as if you were determined to goad me to an act whichI have shunned committing, you will not let me close my eyes in peace. "

"Take your hand from off my throat, Varney, and I will then tell youwhat brought me here. "

Sir Francis Varney did so. 

"Rise, " he said--"rise; I have seen blood enough to be sickened at theprospect of more; but you should not have come here and tempted me. "

"Nay, believe me, I came here for good and not for evil. Sir FrancisVarney, hear me out, and then judge for yourself whether you can blamethe perseverance which enabled me to find out this secret place ofrefuge; but let me first say that now it is as good a place ofconcealment to you as before it was, for I shall not betray you. "

"Go on, go on. What is it you desire?"

"During the long and weary hours of my captivity, I thought deeply, andpainfully too, as may be well imagined, of all the circumstancesconnected with your appearance at Bannerworth Hall, and your subsequentconduct. Then I felt convinced that there was something far more thanmet the eye, in the whole affair, and, from what I have been informed ofsince, I am the more convinced that some secret, some mystery, which itis in your power only perhaps to explain, lurks at the bottom of allyour conduct. "

"Well, proceed, " said Varney. 

"Have I not said enough now to enable you to divine the object of myvisit? It is that you should shake off the trammels of mystery in whichyou have shrouded yourself, and declare what it is you want, what it isyou desire, that has induced you to set yourself up as such a determinedfoe of the Bannerworth family. "

"And that, you say, is the modest request that brings you here?"

"You speak as it you thought it was idle curiosity that prompts me, butyou know it is not. Your language and manner are those of a man of toomuch sagacity not to see that I have higher notions. "

"Name them. "

"You have yourself, in more than one instance, behaved with a strangesort of romantic generosity, as if, but for some great object which youfelt impelled to seek by any means, and at any sacrifice, you would be asomething in character and conduct very different from what you are. Oneof my objects, then, is to awaken that better nature which is slumberingwithin you, only now and then rousing itself to do some deed whichshould be the character of all your actions--for your own sake I havecome. "

"But not wholly?"

"Not wholly, as you say. There is another than whom, the whole world isnot so dear to me. That other one was serene as she was beautiful. Happiness danced in her eyes, and she ought--for not more lovely is themind that she possesses than the glorious form that enshrines it--to behappy. Her life should have passed like one long summer's day of beauty, sunshine, and pure heavenly enjoyment. You have poisoned the cup of joythat the great God of nature had permitted her to place to her lips andtaste of mistrustingly. Why have you done this? I ask you--why have youdone this?"

"Have you said all that you came to say?"

"I have spoken the substance of my message. Much could I elaborate uponsuch a theme; but it is not one, Varney, which is congenial to my heart;for your sake, however, and for the sakes of those whom I hold mostdear, let me implore you to act in this matter with a kindlyconsideration. Proclaim your motives; you cannot say that they are notsuch as we may aid you in. "

Varney was silent for several moments; he seemed perceptibly moved bythe manner of the young man, as well as by the matter of his discourse. In fact, one would suppose that Charles Holland had succeeded ininvesting what he said with some sort of charm that won much upon thefancy of Sir Francis Varney, for when he ceased to speak, the lattersaid in a low voice, --

"Go on, go on; you have surely much more to say. "

"No, Varney; I have said enough, and not thus much would I have said hadI not been aware, most certainly and truly aware, without the shadow ofa doubt, by your manner, that you were most accessible to humanfeeling. "

"I accessible to human feeling! know you to whom you speak? Am I not hebefore whom all men shudder, whose name has been a terror and adesolation; and yet you can talk of my human feelings. Nay, if I had hadany, be sure they would have been extinguished by the persecutions Ihave endured from those who, you know, with savage ferocity have soughtmy life. "

"No, Varney; I give you credit for being a subtler reasoner than thus toargue; you know well that you were the aggressor to those parties whosought your life; you know well that with the greatest imaginable painsyou held yourself up to them as a thing of great terror. "

"I did--I did. "

"You cannot, then, turn round upon ignorant persons, and blame thembecause your exertions to make yourself seem what you wish were but toosuccessful. "

"You use the word _seem_, " said Varney, with a bitterness of aspect, "asif you would imply a doubt that I am that which thousands, by theirfears, would testify me to be. "

"Thousands might, " said Charles Holland; "but not among them am I, Varney; I will not be made the victim of superstition. Were you to enactbefore my very eyes some of those feats which, to the senses of others, would stamp you as the preternatural being you assume to be, I woulddoubt the evidence of my own senses ere I permitted such a bugbear tooppress my brain. "

"Go, " said Sir Francis Varney, "go: I have no more words for you; I havenothing to relate to you. "

"Nay, you have already listened sufficiently to me to give me a hopethat I had awakened some of the humanity that was in your nature. Donot, Sir Francis Varney, crush that hope, even as it was budding forth;not for my own sake do I ask you for revelations; that may, perhaps--must be painful for you; but for the sake of Flora Bannerworth, to whom you owe abundance of reparation. "

"No, no. "

"In the name of all that is great, and good, and just, I call upon youfor justice. "

"What have I to do with such an invocation? Utter such a sentiment tomen who, like yourself, are invested with the reality as well as theoutward show of human nature. "

"Nay, Sir Francis Varney, now you belie yourself. You have passedthrough a long, and, perchance, a stormy life. Can you look back uponyour career, and find no reminiscences of the past that shall convinceyou that you are of the great family of man, and have had abundance ofhuman feelings and of human affections?"

"Peace, peace!"

"Nay, Sir Francis Varney, I will take your word, and if you will layyour hand upon your heart, and tell me truly that you never felt what itwas to love--to have all feeling, all taste, and all hope of future joy, concentrated in one individual, I will despair, and leave you. If youwill tell me that never, in your whole life, you have felt for any fairand glorious creature, as I now feel for Flora Bannerworth, a being forwhom you could have sacrificed not only existence, but all the hopes ofa glorious future that bloom around it--if you will tell me, with thecalm, dispassionate aspect of truth, that you have held yourself alooffrom such human feelings, I will no longer press you to a disclosurewhich I shall bring no argument to urge. "

The agitation of Sir Francis Varney's countenance was perceptible, andCharles Holland was about to speak again, when, striking him upon thebreast with his clinched hand, the vampyre checked him, saying--

"Do you wish to drive me mad, that you thus, from memory's hidden cells, conjure up images of the past?"

"Then there are such images to conjure up--there are such shadows onlysleeping, but which require only, as you did even now, but a touch toawaken them to life and energy. Oh, Sir Francis Varney, do not tell methat you are not human. "

The vampyre made a furious gesture, as if he would have attacked CharlesHolland; but then he sank nearly to the floor, as if soul-stricken bysome recollection that unnerved his arm; he shook with unwonted emotion, and, from the frightful livid aspect of his countenance, Charles dreadedsome serious accession of indisposition, which might, if nothing elsedid, prevent him from making the revelation he so much sought to hearfrom his lips. 

"Varney, " he cried, "Varney, be calm! you will be listened to by one whowill draw no harsh--no hasty conclusions; by one, who, with thatcharity, I grieve to say, is rare, will place upon the words you utterthe most favourable construction. Tell me all, I pray you, tell me all. "

"This is strange, " said the vampyre. "I never thought that aught humancould thus have moved me. Young man, you have touched the chords ofmemory; they vibrate throughout my heart, producing cadences and soundsof years long past. Bear with me awhile. "

"And you will speak to me?"

"I will. "

"Having your promise, then, I am content, Varney. "

"But you must be secret; not even in the wildest waste of nature, whereyou can well presume that naught but Heaven can listen to yourwhisperings, must you utter one word of that which I shall tell to you. "

"Alas!" said Charles, "I dare not take such a confidence; I have saidthat it is not for myself; I seek such knowledge of what you are, andwhat you have been, but it is for another so dear to me, that all thecharms of life that make up other men's delights, equal not the witcheryof one glance from her, speaking as it does of the glorious light fromthat Heaven which is eternal, from whence she sprung. "

"And you reject my communication, " said Varney, "because I will not giveyou leave to expose it to Flora Bannerworth?"

"It must be so. "

"And you are most anxious to hear that which I have to relate?"

"Most anxious, indeed--indeed, most anxious. "

"Then have I found in that scruple which besets your mind, a betterargument for trusting you, than had ye been loud in protestation. Hadyour promises of secrecy been but those which come from the lip, and notfrom the heart, my confidence would not have been rejected on suchgrounds. I think that I dare trust you. "

"With leave to tell to Flora that which you shall communicate. "

"You may whisper it to her, but to no one else, without my special leaveand licence. "

"I agree to those terms, and will religiously preserve them. "

"I do not doubt you for one moment; and now I will tell to you whatnever yet has passed my lips to mortal man. Now will I connect togethersome matters which you may have heard piecemeal from others. "

"What others are they?"

"Dr. Chillingworth, and he who once officiated as a London hangman. "

"I have heard something from those quarters. "

"Listen then to me, and you shall better understand that which you haveheard. Some years ago, it matters not the number, on a stormy night, towards the autumn of the year, two men sat alone in poverty, and thatspecies of distress which beset the haughty, profligate, daring man, whohas been accustomed all his life to its most enticing enjoyments, butnever to that industry which alone ought to produce them, and renderthem great and magnificent. "

"Two men; and who were they?"

"I was one. Look upon me! I was of those men; and strong and evilpassions were battling in my heart. "

"And the other!"

"Was Marmaduke Bannerworth. "

"Gracious Heaven! the father of her whom I adore; the suicide. "

"Yes, the same; that man stained with a thousand vices--blasted by athousand crimes--the father of her who partakes nothing of his nature, who borrows nothing from his memory but his name--was the man who theresat with me, plotting and contriving how, by fraud or violence, we wereto lead our usual life of revelry and wild audacious debauch. "

"Go on, go on; believe me, I am deeply interested. "

"I can see as much. We were not nice in the various schemes which ourprolific fancies engendered. If trickery, and the false dice at thegaming-table, sufficed not to fill our purses, we were bold enough forviolence. If simple robbery would not succeed, we could take a life. "

"Murder?"

"Ay, call it by its proper name, a murder. We sat till the midnight hourhad passed, without arriving at a definite conclusion; we saw no plan ofpracticable operation, and so we wandered onwards to one of those deepdens of iniquity, a gaming-house, wherein we had won and lost thousands. 

"We had no money, but we staked largely, in the shape of a wager, uponthe success of one of the players; we knew not, or cared not, for theconsequence, if we had lost; but, as it happened, we were largelysuccessful, and beggars as we had walked into that place, we might haveleft it independent men. 

"But when does the gambler know when to pause in his career? If defeatawakens all the raging passions of humanity within his bosom, successbut feeds the great vice that has been there engendered. To the dawn ofmorn we played; the bright sun shone in, and yet we played--the middaycame, and went--the stimulant of wine supported us, and still we played;then came the shadows of evening, stealing on in all their beauty. Butwhat were they to us, amid those mutations of fortune, which, at onemoment, made us princes, and placed palaces at our control, and, atanother, debased us below the veriest beggar, that craves the stintedalms of charity from door to door. 

"And there was one man who, from the first to the last, stayed by uslike a very fiend; more than man, I thought he was not human. We won ofall, but of him. People came and brought their bright red gold, and laidit down before us, but for us to take it up, and then, by a cruel strokeof fortune, he took it from us. 

"The night came on; we won, and he won of us; the clock strucktwelve--we were beggars. God knows what was he. 

"We saw him place his winnings about his person--we saw the smile thatcurved the corners of his lips; he was calm, and we were maddened. Theblood flowed temperately through his veins, but in ours it was burninglava, scorching as it went through every petty artery, and drying up allhuman thought--all human feeling. 

"The winner left, and we tracked his footsteps. When he reached the openair, although he had taken much less than we of the intoxicatingbeverages that are supplied gratis to those who frequent those haunts ofinfamy, it was evident that some sort of inebriation attacked him; hissteps were disordered and unsteady, and, as we followed him, we couldperceive, by the devious track that he took, that he was somewhatuncertain of his route. 

"We had no fixed motive in so pursuing this man. It was but an impulsiveproceeding at the best; but as he still went on and cleared the streets, getting into the wild and open country, and among the hedge-rows, webegan to whisper together, and to think that what we did not owe tofortune, we might to our own energy and courage at such a moment. 

"I need not hesitate to say so, since, to hide the most importantfeature of my revelation from you, would be but to mock you; we resolvedupon robbing him. 

"And was that all?"

"It was all that our resolution went to. We were not anxious to spillblood; but still we were resolved that we would accomplish our purpose, even if it required murder for its consummation. Have you heard enough?"

"I have not heard enough, although I guess the rest. "

"You may well guess it, from its preface. He turned down a lonelypathway, which, had we chosen it ourselves, could not have been moresuitable for the attack we meditated. 

"There were tall trees on either side, and a hedge-row stretching highup between them. We knew that that lane led to a suburban village, which, without a doubt, was the object of his destination. 

"Then Marmaduke Bannerworth spoke, saying, --

"'What we have to do, must be done now or never. There needs not two inthis adventure. Shall you or I require him to refund what he has wonfrom us?'

"'I care not, ' I said; 'but if we are to accomplish our purpose withoutarousing even a shadow of resistance, it is better to show him itsfutility by both appearing, and take a share in the adventure. '

"This was agreed upon, and we hastened forward. He heard footstepspursuing him and quickened his pace. I was the fleetest runner, andovertook him. I passed him a pace or two, and then turning, I faced him, and impeded his progress. 

"The lane was narrow, and a glance behind him showed him MarmadukeBannerworth; so that he was hemmed in between two enemies, and couldmove neither to the right nor to the left, on account of the thickbrushwood that intervened between the trees. 

"Then, with an assumed courage, that sat but ill upon him, he demandedof us what we wanted, and proclaimed his right to pass despite theobstruction we placed in his way. 

"The dialogue was brief. I, being foremost, spoke to him. 

"'Your money, ' I said; 'your winnings at the gaming-table. We cannot, and we will not lose it. '

"So suddenly, that he had nearly taken my life, he drew a pistol fromhis pocket, and levelling it at my head, he fired upon me. 

"Perhaps, had I moved, it might have been my death; but, as it was, thebullet furrowed my cheek, leaving a scar, the path of which is yetvisible in a white cicatrix. 

"I felt a stunning sensation, and thought myself a dead man. I criedaloud to Marmaduke Bannerworth, and he rushed forward. I knew not thathe was armed, and that he had the power about him to do the deed whichhe then accomplished; but there was a groan, a slight struggle, and thesuccessful gamester fell upon the green sward, bathed in his blood. "

"And this is the father of her whom I adore?"

"It is. Are you shocked to think of such a neat relationship between somuch beauty and intelligence and a midnight murderer? Is your philosophyso poor, that the daughter's beauty suffers from the commission of afather's crime?"

"No, no, It is not so. Do not fancy that, for one moment, I canentertain such unworthy opinions. The thought that crossed me was that Ishould have to tell one of such a gentle nature that her father had donesuch a deed. "

"On that head you can use your own discretion. The deed was done; therewas sufficient light for us to look upon the features of the dying man. Ghastly and terrific they glared upon us; while the glazed eyes, as theywere upturned to the bright sky, seemed appealing to Heaven forvengeance against us, for having done the deed. 

"Many a day and many an hour since at all times and all seasons, I haveseen those eyes, with the glaze of death upon them, following me, andgloating over the misery they had the power to make. I think I see themnow. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes; look--look--see how they glare upon me--with what a fixed andfrightful stare the bloodshot pupils keep their place--there, there! oh!save me from such a visitation again. It is too horrible. I dare not--Icannot endure it; and yet why do you gaze at me with such an aspect, dread visitant? You know that it was not my hand that did the deed--wholaid you low. You know that not to me are you able to lay the heavycharge of your death!"

"Varney, you look upon vacancy, " said Charles Holland. 

"No, no; vacancy it may be to you, but to me 'tis full of horribleshapes. "

"Compose yourself; you have taken me far into your confidence already; Ipray you now to tell me all. I have in my brain no room for horribleconjectures such as those which might else torment me. "

Varney was silent for a few minutes, and then he wiped from his brow theheavy drops of perspiration that had there gathered, and heaved a deepsigh. 

"Speak to me, " added Charles; "nothing will so much relieve you from theterrors of this remembrance as making a confidence which reflection willapprove of, and which you will know that you have no reason to repent. "

"Charles Holland, " said Varney, "I have already gone too far toretract--much too far, I know, and can well understand all the danger ofhalf confidence. You already know so much, that it is fit you shouldknow more. "

"Go on then, Varney, I will listen to you. "

"I know not if, at this juncture, I can command myself to say more. Ifeel that what next has to be told will be most horrible for me totell--most sad for you to hear told. "

"I can well believe, Varney, from your manner of speech, and from thewords you use, that you have some secret to relate beyond this simplefact of the murder of this gamester by Marmaduke Bannerworth. "

"You are right--such is the fact; the death of that man could not havemoved me as you now see me moved. There is a secret connected with hisfate which I may well hesitate to utter--a secret even to whisper to thewinds of heaven--I--although I did not do the deed, no, no--I--I did notstrike the blow--not I--not I!"

[Illustration]

"Varney, it is astonishing to me the pains you take to assure yourselfof your innocence of this deed; no one accuses you, but still, were itnot that I am impressed with a strong conviction that you're speaking tome nothing but the truth, the very fact of your extreme anxiety toacquit yourself, would engender suspicion. "

"I can understand that feeling, Charles Holland; I can fully understandit. I do not blame you for it--it is a most natural one; but when youknow all, you will feel with me how necessary it must have been to mypeace to seize upon every trivial circumstance that can help me to abelief in my own innocence. "

"It may be so; as yet, you well know, I speak in ignorance. But whatcould there have been in the character of that gambler, that has madeyou so sympathetic concerning his decease?"

"Nothing--nothing whatever in his character. He was a bad man; not oneof those free, open spirits which are seduced into crime bythoughtlessness--not one of those whom we pity, perchance, more than wecondemn; but a man without a redeeming trait in his disposition--a manso heaped up with vices and iniquities, that society gained much by hisdecease, and not an individual could say that he had lost a friend. "

"And yet the mere thought of the circumstances connected with his deathseems almost to drive you to the verge of despair. "

"You are right; the mere thought has that effect. "

"You have aroused all my curiosity to know the causes of such afeeling. "

Varney paced the apartment in silence for many minutes. He seemed to beenduring a great mental struggle, and at length, when he turned toCharles Holland and spoke, there were upon his countenance traces ofdeep emotion. 

"I have said, young man, that I will take you into my confidence. I havesaid that I will clear up many seeming mysteries, and that I will enableyou to understand what was obscure in the narrative of Dr. Chillingworth, and of that man who filled the office of publicexecutioner, and who has haunted me so long. "

"It is true, then, as the doctor states, that you were executed inLondon?"

"I was. "

"And resuscitated by the galvanic process, put into operation by Dr. Chillingworth?"

"As he supposed; but there are truths connected with natural philosophywhich he dreamed not of. I bear a charmed life, and it was but accidentwhich produced a similar effect upon the latent springs of my existencein the house to which the executioner conducted me, to what would havebeen produced had I been sufficed, in the free and open air, to waituntil the cool moonbeams fell upon me. "

"Varney, Varney, " said Charles Holland, "you will not succeed inconvincing me of your supernatural powers. I hold such feelings andsensations at arm's length. I will not--I cannot assume you to be whatyou affect. "

"I ask for no man's belief. I know that which I know, and, gatheringexperience from the coincidences of different phenomena, I am compelledto arrive at certain conclusions. Believe what you please, doubt whatyou please; but I say again that I am not as other men. "

"I am in no condition to depute your proposition; I wish not to disputeit; but you are wandering, Varney, from the point. I wait anxiously fora continuation of your narrative. "

"I know that I am wandering from it--I know well that I am wanderingfrom it, and that the reason I do so is that I dread that continuation. "

"That dread will nor be the less for its postponement. "

"You are right; but tell me, Charles Holland, although you are young youhave been about in the great world sufficiently to form correctopinions, and to understand that which is related to you, drawing properdeductions from certain facts, and arriving possibly at more correctconclusions than some of maturer years with less wisdom. "

"I will freely answer, Varney, any question you may put to me. "

"I know it; tell me then what measure of guilt you attach to me in thetransaction I have noticed to you. "

"It seems then to me that, not contemplating the man's murder, youcannot be accused of the act, although a set of fortuitous circumstancesmade you appear an accomplice to its commission. "

"You think I may be acquitted?"

"You can acquit yourself, knowing that you did not contemplate themurder. "

"I did not contemplate it. I know not what desperate deed I should havestopped short at then, in the height of my distress, but I neithercontemplated taking that man's life, nor did I strike the blow whichsent him from existence. "

"There is even some excuse as regards the higher crime for MarmadukeBannerworth. "

"Think you so?"

"Yes; he thought that you were killed, and impulsively he might havestruck the blow that made him a murderer. "

"Be it so. I am willing, extremely willing that anything should occurthat should remove the odium of guilt from any man, Be it so, I say, with all my heart; but now, Charles Holland, I feel that we must meetagain ere I can tell you all; but in the meantime let Flora Bannerworthrest in peace--she need dread nothing from me. Avarice and revenge, thetwo passions which found a home in my heart, are now stifled for ever. "

"Revenge! did you say revenge?"

"I did; whence the marvel, am I not sufficiently human for that?"

"But you coupled it with the name of Flora Bannerworth. "

"I did, and that is part of my mystery. "

"A mystery, indeed, to imagine that such a being as Flora could awakenany such feeling in your heart--a most abundant mystery. "

"It is so. I do not affect to deny it: but yet it is true, although sogreatly mysterious, but tell her that although at one time I looked uponher as one whom I cared not if I injured, her beauty and distresschanged the current of my thoughts, and won upon me greatly, From themoment I found I had the power to become the bane of her existence, Iceased to wish to be so, and never again shall she experience a pang ofalarm from Varney, the vampyre. "

"Your message shall be faithfully delivered, and doubt not that it willbe received with grateful feelings. Nevertheless I should have muchwished to have been in a position to inform her of more particulars. "

"Come to me here at midnight to-morrow, and you shall know all. I willhave no reservation with you, no concealments; you shall know whom Ihave had to battle against, and how it is that a world of evil passionstook possession of my heart and made me what I am. "

"Are you firm in this determination, Varney--will you indeed tell me nomore to-night?"

"No more, I have said it. Leave me now. I have need of more repose, forof late sleep has seldom closed my eyelids. "

Charles Holland was convinced, from the positive manner in which hespoke, that nothing more in the shape of information, at that time, wasto be expected from Varney; and being fearful that if he urged thisstrange being too far, at a time when he did not wish it, he mightrefuse all further communication, he thought it prudent to leave him, sohe said to him, --

"Be assured, Varney, I shall keep the appointment you have made, with anexpectation when we do meet of being rewarded by a recital of some fullparticulars. "

"You shall not he disappointed; farewell, farewell!"

Charles Holland bade him adieu, and left the place. 

Although he had now acquired all the information he hoped to take awaywith him when Varney first began to be communicative, yet, when he cameto consider how strange and unaccountable a being he had been incommunication with, Charles could not but congratulate himself that hehad heard so much, for, from the manner of Varney, he could well supposethat that was, indeed, the first time he had been so communicative uponsubjects which evidently held so conspicuous a place in his heart. 

And he had abundance of hope, likewise, from what had been said byVarney, that he would keep his word, and communicate to him fully allelse that he required to know; and when he recollected those words whichVarney had used, signifying that he knew the danger of half confidences, that hope grew into a certainty, and Charles began to have no doubt butthat on the next evening all that was mysterious in the various affairsconnected with the vampyre would become clear and open to the light ofday. 

He strolled down the lane in which the lone house was situated, revolving these matters in his mind, and when he arrived at itsentrance, he was rather surprised to see a throng of persons hastilymoving onward, with come appearance of dismay about them, and anxietydepicted upon their countenances. 

He stopped a lad, and inquired of him the cause of the seeming tumult. 

"Why, sir, the fact is, " said the boy, "a crowd from the town's beenburning down Bannerworth Hall, and they've killed a man"

"Bannerworth Hall! you must be mistaken. "

"Well, sir, I ought not to call it Bannerworth Hall, because I mean theold ruins in the neighbourhood that are supposed to have been originallyBannerworth Hall before the house now called such was built; and, moreover, as the Bannerworths have always had a garden there, and two orthree old sheds, the people in the town called it Bannerworth Hall incommon with the other building. "

"I understand. And do you say that all have been destroyed?"

"Yes, sir. All that was capable of being burnt has been burnt, and, whatis more, a man has been killed among the ruins. We don't know who he is, but the folks said he was a vampyre, and they left him for dead, "

"When will these terrible outrages cease? Oh! Varney, Varney, you havemuch to answer for; even if in your conscience you succeed in acquittingyourself of the murder, some of the particulars concerning which youhave informed me of. "

CHAPTER LXXXIII. 

THE MYSTERIOUS ARRIVAL AT THE INN. --THE HUNGARIAN NOBLEMAN. --THE LETTERTO VARNEY. 

[Illustration]

While these affairs are proceeding, and when there seems everyappearance of Sir Francis Varney himself quickly putting an end to someof the vexatious circumstances connected with himself and theBannerworth family, it is necessary that we should notice an occurrencewhich took place at the same inn which the admiral had made such a sceneof confusion upon the occasion of his first arrival in the town. 

Not since the admiral had arrived with Jack Pringle, and so disturbedthe whole economy of the household, was there so much curiosity excitedas on the morning following the interview which Charles Holland had hadwith Varney, the vampyre. 

The inn was scarcely opened, when a stranger arrived, mounted on acoal-black horse, and, alighting, he surrendered the bridle into thehands of a boy who happened to be at the inn-door, and stalked slowlyand solemnly into the building. 

He was tall, and of a cadaverous aspect; in attire he was plainlyapparelled, but there was no appearance of poverty about him; on thecontrary, what he really had on was of a rich and costly character, although destitute of ornament. 

He sat down in the first room that presented itself, and awaited theappearance of the landlord, who, upon being informed that a guest ofapparently ample means, and of some consequence, had entered the place, hastily went to him to receive his commands. 

With a profusion of bows, our old friend, who had been so obsequious toAdmiral Bell, entered the room, and begged to know what orders thegentleman had for him. 

"I presume, " said the stranger, in a deep, solemn voice, "I presume thatyou have no objection, for a few days that I shall remain in this town, to board and lodge me for a certain price which you can name to me atonce?"

"Certainly, sir, " said the landlord; "any way you please; without wine, sir, I presume?"

"As you please; make your own arrangements. "

"Well, sir, as we can't tell, of course, what wine a gentleman maydrink, but when we come to consider breakfast, dinner, tea, and supper, and a bed, and all that sort of thing, and a private sitting-room, Isuppose, sir?"

"Certainly. "

"You would not, then, think, sir, a matter of four guineas a week willbe too much, perhaps. "

"I told you to name your own charge. Let it be four guineas; if you hadsaid eight I should have paid it. "

"Good God!" said the publican, "here's a damned fool that I am. I begyour pardon, sir, I didn't mean you. Now I could punch my own head--willyou have breakfast at once, sir, and then we shall begin regular, youknow, sir?"

"Have what?"

"Breakfast, breakfast, you know, sir; tea, coffee, cocoa, or chocolate;ham, eggs, or a bit of grilled fowl, cold sirloin of roast beef, or ared herring--anything you like, sir. "

"I never take breakfast, so you may spare yourself the trouble ofproviding anything for me. "

"Not take breakfast, sir! not take breakfast! Would you like to takeanything to drink then, sir? People say it's an odd time, at eighto'clock in the morning, to drink; but, for my part, I always havethought that you couldn't begin a good thing too soon. "

"I live upon drink, " said the stranger; "but you have none in the cellarthat will suit me. "

"Indeed, sir. "

"No, no, I am certain. "

"Why, we've got some claret now, sir, " said the landlord. 

"Which may look like blood, and yet not be it. "

"Like what, sir?--damn my rags!"

"Begone, begone. "

The stranger uttered these words so peremptorily that the landlordhastily left the room, and going into his own bar, he gave himself sosmall a tap on the side of the head, that it would not have hurt a fly, as he said, --

"I could punch myself into bits, I could tear my hair out by the roots;"and then he pulled a little bit of his hair, so gently and tenderly thatit showed what a man of discretion he was, even in the worst of all hisagony of passion. 

"The idea, " he added, "of a fellow coming here, paying four guineas aweek for board and lodging, telling me he would not have minded eight, and then not wanting any breakfast; it's enough to aggravate half adozen saints; but what an odd fish he looks. "

At this moment the ostler came in, and, standing at the bar, he wipedhis mouth with his sleeve, as he said, --

"I suppose you'll stand a quart for that, master?"

"A quart for what, you vagabond? A quart because I've done myself up inheaps; a quart because I'm fit to pull myself into fiddlestrings?"

"No, " said the ostler; "because I've just put up the gentleman's horse. "

"What gentleman's horse?"

"Why, the big-looking fellow with the white face, now in the parlour. "

"What, did he come on a horse, Sam? What sort of a looking creature isit? you may judge of a man from the sort of horse-company he keeps. "

"Well, then, sir, I hardly know. It's coal black, and looks as knowingas possible; it's tried twice to get a kick at me, but I was down uponhim, and put the bucket in his way. Howsomdever, I don't think it's abad animal, as a animal, mind you, sir, though a little bit wicious orso. "

"Well, " said the publican, as he drew the ostler half a pint instead ofa quart, "you're always drinking; take that. "

"Blow me, " said the ostler, "half a pint, master!"

"Plague take you, I can't stand parleying with you, there's the parlourbell; perhaps, after all, he will have some breakfast. "

While the landlord was away the ostler helped himself to a quart of thestrongest ale, which, by a singular faculty that he had acquired, hepoured down his throat without any effort at swallowing, holding hishead back, and the jug at a little distance from his mouth. 

Having accomplished this feat, he reversed the jug, giving it a knowingtap with his knuckles as though he would have signified to all the worldthat it was empty, and that he had accomplished what he desired. 

In the meantime, the landlord had made his way to his strange guest, whosaid to him, when he came into the room, "Is there not one Sir Francis Varney residing in this town?"

"The devil!" thought the landlord; "this is another of them, I'll bet aguinea. Sir Francis Varney, sir, did you say? Why, sir, there was a SirFrancis Varney, but folks seem to think as how he's no better than heshould be--a sort of vampyre, sir, if you know what that is. "

"I have, certainly, heard of such things; but can you not tell meVarney's address? I wish to see him. "

"Well, then, sir, I cannot tell it to you, for there's really been sucha commotion and such a riot about him that he's taken himself off, Ithink, altogether, and we can hear nothing of him. Lord bless you, sir, they burnt down his house, and hunted him about so, that I don't thinkthat he'll ever show his face here again. "

"And cannot you tell me where he was seen last?"

"That I cannot, sir; but, if anybody knows anything about him, it's Mr. Henry Bannerworth, or perhaps Dr. Chillingworth, for they have had moreto do with him than anybody else. "

"Indeed; and can you tell me the address of the former individual?"

"That I can't, sir, for the Bannerworths have left the Hall. As for thedoctor, sir, you'll see his house in the High-street, with a large brassplate on the door, so that you cannot mistake it. It's No. 9, on theother side of the way. "

"I thank you for so much information, " said the stranger, and rising, hewalked to the door. Before, however, he left, he turned, andadded, --"You can say, if you should by chance meet Mr. Bannerworth, thata Hungarian nobleman wishes to speak to him concerning Sir FrancisVarney, the vampyre?"

"A what, sir?"

"A nobleman from Hungary, " was the reply. 

"The deuce!" said the landlord, as he looked after him. "He don't seemat all hungry here, not thirsty neither. What does he mean by a noblemanfrom Hungary? The idea of a man talking about hungry, and not taking anybreakfast. He's queering me. I'll be hanged if I'll stand it. Here Iclearly lose four guineas a week, and then get made game of besides. Anobleman, indeed! I think I see him. Why, he isn't quite so big as oldSlaney, the butcher. It's a do. I'll have at him when he comes back. "

Meanwhile, the unconscious object of this soliloquy passed down theHigh-street, until he came to Dr. Chillingworth's, at whose door heknocked. 

Now Mrs. Chillingworth had been waiting the whole night for the returnof the doctor, who had not yet made his appearance, and, consequently, that lady's temper had become acidulated to an uncommon extent and whenshe heard a knock at the door, something possessed her that it could beno other than her spouse, and she prepared to give him that warmreception which she considered he had a right, as a married man, toexpect after such conduct. 

She hurriedly filled a tolerably sized hand-basin with not the cleanestwater in the world, and then, opening the door hurriedly with one hand, she slouced the contents into the face of the intruder, exclaiming, --

"Now you've caught it!"

"D--n!" said the Hungarian nobleman, and then Mrs. Chillingworth uttereda scream, for she feared she had made a mistake. 

"Oh, sir! I'm very sorry: but I thought it was my husband. "

"But if you did, " said the stranger, "there was no occasion to drown himwith a basin of soap-suds. It is your husband I want, madam, if he beDr. Chillingworth. "

"Then, indeed, you must go on wanting him, sir, for he's not been to hisown home for a day and a night. He takes up all his time in huntingafter that beastly vampyre. "

"Ah! Sir Francis Varney, you mean. "

"I do; and I'd Varney him if I caught hold of him. "

"Can you give me the least idea of where he can be found?"

"Of course I can. "

"Indeed! where?" said the stranger, eagerly. 

"In some churchyard, to be sure, gobbling up the dead bodies. "

With this Mrs. Chillingworth shut the door with a bang that nearlyflattened the Hungarian's nose with his face, and he was fain to walkaway, quite convinced that there was no information to be had in thatquarter. 

He returned to the inn, and having told the landlord that he would givea handsome reward to any one who would discover to him the retreat ofSir Francis Varney, he shut himself up in an apartment alone, and wasbusy for a time in writing letters. 

Although the sum which the stranger offered was an indefinite one, thelandlord mentioned the matter across the bar to several persons; but allof them shook their heads, believing it to be a very perilous adventureindeed to have anything to do with so troublesome a subject as SirFrancis Varney. As the day advanced, however, a young lad presentedhimself, and asked to see the gentleman who had been inquiring forVarney. 

The landlord severely questioned and cross-questioned him, with the hopeof discovering if he had any information: but the boy was quiteobdurate, and would speak to no one but the person who had offered thereward, so that mine host was compelled to introduce him to theHungarian nobleman, who, as yet, had neither eaten nor drunk in thehouse. 

The boy wore upon his countenance the very expression of juvenilecunning, and when the stranger asked him if he really was in possessionof any information concerning the retreat of Sir Francis Varney, hesaid, --

"I can tell you where he is, but what are you going to give?"

"What sum do you require?" said the stranger. 

"A whole half-crown. "

"It is your's; and, if your information prove correct, come to-morrow, and I'll add another to it, always provided, likewise, you keep thesecret from any one else. "

"Trust me for that, " said the boy. "I live with my grandmother; she'sprecious old, and has got a cottage. We sell milk and cakes, stickystuff, and pennywinkles. "

"A goodly collection. Go on. "

"Well, sir, this morning, there comes a man in with a bottle, and hebuys a bottle full of milk and a loaf. I saw him, and I knew it wasVarney, the vampyre. "

"You followed him?"

"Of course I did, sir; and he's staying at the house that's to let downthe lane, round the corner, by Mr. Biggs's, and past Lee's garden, leaving old Slaney's stacks on your right hand, and so cutting on tillyou come to Grants's meadow, when you'll see old Madhunter a brick-fieldstaring of you in the face; and, arter that--"

"Peace--peace!--you shall yourself conduct me. Come to this place atsunset; be secret, and, probably, ten times the reward you have alreadyreceived may be yours, " said the stranger. 

"What, ten half-crowns?"

"Yes, I will keep my word with you. "

"What a go! I know what I'll do. I'll set up as a show man, and what aglorious treat it will be, to peep through one of the holes all daymyself, and get somebody to pull the strings up and down, and when I'mtired of that, I can blaze away upon the trumpet like one o'clock. Ithink I see me. Here you sees the Duke of Marlborough a whopping ofeverybody, and here you see the Frenchmen flying about like parched peasin a sifter. "

CHAPTER LXXXIV. 

THE EXCITED POPULACE. --VARNEY HUNTED. --THE PLACE OF REFUGE. 

[Illustration]

There seemed, now a complete lull in the proceedings as connected withVarney, the vampyre. We have reason to believe that the executioner whohad been as solicitous as Varney to obtain undisputed possession ofBannerworth Hall, has fallen a victim to the indiscriminating rage ofthe mob. Varney himself is a fugitive, and bound by the most solemn tiesto Charles Holland, not only to communicate to him such particulars ofthe past, as will bring satisfaction to his mind, but to abstain fromany act which, for the future, shall exercise a disastrous influenceupon the happiness of Flora. 

The doctor and the admiral, with Henry, had betaken themselves from theHall as we had recorded, and, in due time, reached the cottage whereFlora and her mother had found a temporary refuge. 

Mrs. Bannerworth was up; but Flora was sleeping, and, although thetidings they had to tell were of a curious and mixed nature, they wouldnot have her disturbed to listen to them. 

And, likewise, they were rather pleased than otherwise, since they knewnot exactly what had become of Charles Holland, to think that they wouldprobably be spared the necessity of saying they could not account forhis absence. 

That he had gone upon some expedition, probably dangerous, and so onewhich he did not wish to communicate the particulars of to his friends, lest they should make a strong attempt to dissuade him from it, theywere induced to believe. 

But yet they had that confidence in his courage and active intellectualresources, to believe that he would come through it unscathed, and, probably, shortly show himself at the cottage. 

In this hope they were not disappointed, for in about two hours Charlesmade his appearance; but, until he began to be questioned concerning hisabsence by the admiral, he scarcely considered the kind of dilemma hehad put himself into by the promise of secrecy he had given to Varney, and was a little puzzled to think now much he might tell, and how muchhe was bound in honour to conceal. 

"Avast there!" cried the admiral; "what's become of your tongue, Charles? You've been on some cruize, I'll be bound. Haul over the ship'sbooks, and tell us what's happened. "

"I have been upon an adventure, " said Charles, "which I hope will beproductive of beneficial results to us all; but, the fact is, I havemade a promise, perhaps incautiously, that I will not communicate what Iknow. "

"Whew!" said the admiral, "that's awkward; but, however, if a man saidunder sealed instructions, there's an end of it. I remember when I wasoff Candia once---"

"Ha!" interposed Jack, "that was the time you tumbled over the blessedbinnacle, all in consequence of taking too much Madeira. I remember it, too--it's an out and out good story, that 'ere. You took a rope's end, you know, and laid into the bowsprit; and, says you, 'Get up, youlubber, ' says you, all the while a thinking, I supposes, as it was longJack Ingram, the carpenter's mate, laying asleep. What a lark!"

"This scoundrel will be the death of me, " said the admiral; "there isn'tone word of truth in what he says. I never got drunk in all my life, aseverybody knows. Jack, affairs are getting serious between you and I--wemust part, and for good. It's a good many times that I've told youyou've forgot the difference between the quarter-deck and the caboose. Now, I'm serious--you're off the ship's books, and there's an end ofyou. "

"Very good, " said Jack; "I'm willing I'll leave you. Do you think I wantto keep you any longer? Good bye, old bloak--I'll leave you to repent, and when old grim death comes yard-arm and yard-arm with you, and youcan't shake off his boarding-tackle, you'll say, 'Where's Jack Pringle?'says you; and then what's his mane--oh ah! echo you call it--echo'llsay, it's d----d if it knows. "

Jack turned upon his heel, and, before the admiral could make any replyhe left the place. 

"What's the rascal up to now?" said the admiral. "I really didn't thinkhe'd have taken me at my word. "

"Oh, then, after all, you didn't mean it, uncle?" said Charles. 

"What's that to you, you lubber, whether I mean it, or not, youshore-going squab? Of course I expect everybody to desert an old hulk, rats and all--and now Jack Pringle's gone; the vagabond, couldn't hestay, and get drunk as long as he liked! Didn't he say what he pleased, and do what he pleased, the mutinous thief? Didn't he say I run awayfrom a Frenchman off Cape Ushant, and didn't I put up with that?"

"But, my dear uncle, you sent him away yourself. "

"I didn't, and you know I didn't; but I see how it is, you've disgustedJack among you. A better seaman never trod the deck of a man-of-war. "

"But his drunkenness, uncle?"

"It's a lie. I don't believe he ever got drunk. I believe you allinvented it, and Jack's so good-natured, he tumbled about just to keepyou in countenance. "

"But his insolence, uncle; his gross insolence towards you--hisinventions, his exaggerations of the truth?"

"Avast, there--avast, there--none of that, Master Charlie; Jack couldn'tdo anything of the sort; and I means to say this, that if Jack was herenow, I'd stick up for him, and say he was a good seaman. 

"Tip us your fin, then, " said Jack, darting into the room; "do you thinkI'd leave you, you d----d old fool? What would become of you, I wonder, if I wasn't to take you in to dry nurse? Why, you blessed old babby, what do you mean by it?"

"Jack, you villain!"

"Ah! go on and call me a villain as much as you like. Don't you rememberwhen the bullets were scuttling our nobs?"

"I do, I do, Jack; tip us your fin, old fellow. You've saved my lifemore than once. "

"It's a lie. "

"It ain't. You did, I say. "

"You bed----d!"

And thus was the most serious misunderstanding that these two worthiesever had together made up. The real fact is, that the admiral could aslittle do without Jack, as he could have done without food; and as forPringle, he no more thought of leaving the old commodore, than of--whatshall we say? forswearing him. Jack himself could not have taken astronger oath. 

But the old admiral had suffered so much from the idea that Jack hadactually left him, that although he abused him as usual often enough, henever again talked of taking him off the ship's books; and, to thecredit of Jack be it spoken, he took no advantage of the circumstance, and only got drunk just as usual, and called his master an old foolwhenever it suited him. 

CHAPTER LXXXV. 

THE HUNGARIAN NOBLEMAN GETS INTO DANGER. --HE IS FIRED AT, AND SHOWS SOMEOF HIS QUALITY. 

[Illustration]

Considerably delighted was the Hungarian, not only at the news he hadreceived from the boy, but as well for the cheapness of it. Probably hedid not conceive it possible that the secret of the retreat of such aman as Varney could have been attained so easily. 

He waited with great impatience for the evening, and stirred not fromthe inn for several hours; neither did he take any refreshment, notwithstanding he had made so liberal an arrangement with the landlordto be supplied. 

All this was a matter of great excitement and speculation in the inn, somuch so, indeed, that the landlord sent for some of the oldest customersof his house, regular topers, who sat there every evening, indulging instrong drinks, and pipes and tobacco, to ask their serious advice as towhat he should do, as if it were necessary he should do anything at all. 

But, somehow or another, these wiseacres who assembled at the landlord'sbidding, and sat down, with something strong before them, in the barparlour, never once seemed to think that a man might, if he choosed, come to an inn, and agree to pay four guineas a week for board andlodging, and yet take nothing at all. 

No; they could not understand it, and therefore they would not have it. It was quite monstrous that anybody should attempt to do anything socompletely out of the ordinary course of proceeding. It was not to beborne; and as in this country it happens, free and enlightened as weare, that no man can commit a greater social offence than doingsomething that his neighbours never thought of doing themselves, theHungarian nobleman was voted a most dangerous character, and, in fact, not to be put up with. 

"I shouldn't have thought so much of it" said the landlord; "but onlylook at the aggravation of the thing. After I have asked him fourguineas a week, and expected to be beaten down to two, to be then toldthat he would not have cared if it had been eight. It is enough toaggravate a saint. "

"Well, I agree with you there, " said another; "that's just what it is, and I only wonder that a man of your sagacity has not quite understoodit before. "

"Understood what?"

"Why, that he is a vampyre. He has heard of Sir Francis Varney, that'sthe fact, and he's come to see him. Birds of a feather, you know, flocktogether, and now we shall have two vampyres in the town instead ofone. "

[Illustration]

The party looked rather blank at this suggestion, which, indeed, seemedrather uncomfortable probably. The landlord had just opened his mouth tomake some remark, when he was stopped by the violent ringing of what henow called the vampyre's bell, since it proceeded from the room wherethe Hungarian nobleman was. 

"Have you an almanack in the house?" was the question of the mysteriousguest. 

"An almanack, sir? well, I really don't know. Let me see, an almanack. "

"But, perhaps, you can tell me. I was to know the moon's age. "

"The devil!" thought the landlord; "he's a vampyre, and no mistake. Why, sir, as to the moon's age, it was a full moon last night, very brightand beautiful, only you could not see it for the clouds. "

"A full moon last night, " said the mysterious guest, thoughtfully; "itmay shine, then, brightly, to-night, and if so, all will be well. Ithank you, --leave the room. "

"Do you mean to say, sir, you don't want anything to eat now?"

"What I want I'll order. "

"But you have ordered nothing. "

"Then presume that I want nothing. "

The discomfited landlord was obliged to leave the room, for there was nosuch a thing as making any answer to this, and so, still furtherconfirmed in his opinion that the stranger was a vampyre that came tosee Sir Francis Varney from a sympathetic feeling towards him, he againreached the bar-parlour. 

"You may depend, " he said, "as sure as eggs is eggs, that he is avampyre. Hilloa! he's going off, --after him--after him; he thinks wesuspect him. There he goes--down the High-street. "

The landlord ran out, and so did those who were with him, one of whomcarried his brandy and water in his hand, which, being too hot for himto swallow all at once, he still could not think of leaving behind. 

It was now gelling rapidly dark, and the mysterious stranger wasactually proceeding towards the lane to keep his appointment with theboy who had promised to conduct him to the hiding-place of Sir FrancisVarney. 

He had not proceeded far, however, before he began to suspect that hewas followed, as it was evident on the instant that he altered hiscourse; for, instead of walking down the lane, where the boy was waitingfor him, he went right on, and seemed desirous of making his way intothe open country between the town and Bannerworth Hall. 

His pursuers--for they assumed that character--when they saw this becameanxious to intercept him; and thinking that the greater force they hadthe better, they called out aloud as they passed a smithy, where a manwas shoeing a horse, --

"Jack Burdon, here is another vampyre!"

"The deuce there is!" said the person who was addressed. "I'll soonsettle him. Here's my wife gets no sleep of a night as it is, all owingto that Varney, who has been plaguing us so long. I won't put up withanother. "

So saying, he snatched from a hook on which it hung, an oldfowling-piece, and joined the pursuit, which now required to beconducted with some celerity, for the stranger had struck into the opencountry, and was getting on at good speed. 

The last remnants of the twilight were fading away, and although themoon had actually risen, its rays were obscured by a number of light, fleecy clouds, which, although they did not promise to be of longcontinuance, as yet certainly impeded the light. 

"Where is he going?" said the blacksmith. "He seems to be making his waytowards the mill-stream. "

"No, " said another; "don't you see he is striking higher up towards theold ford, where the stepping-stones are!"

"He is--he is, " cried the blacksmith. "Run on--run on; don't you see heis crossing it now? Tell me, all of you, are you quite sure he is avampyre, and no mistake? He ain't the exciseman, landlord, now, is he?"

"The exciseman, the devil! Do you think I want to shoot the exciseman?"

"Very good--then here goes, " exclaimed the Smith. 

He stooped, and just as the brisk night air blew aside the clouds frombefore the face of the moon, and as the stranger was crossing theslippery stones, he fired at him. 

 * * * * *

How silently and sweetly the moon's rays fall upon the water, upon themeadows, and upon the woods. The scenery appeared the work ofenchantment, some fairy land, waiting the appearance of its inhabitants. No sound met the ear; the very wind was hushed; nothing was there todistract the sense of sight, save the power of reflection. 

This, indeed, would aid the effect of such a scene. A cloudless sky, thestars all radiant with beauty, while the moon, rising higher and higherin the heavens, increasing in the strength and refulgence of her light, and dimming the very stars, which seemed to grow gradually invisible asthe majesty of the queen of night became more and more manifest. 

The dark woods and the open meadows contrasted more and more strongly;like light and shade, the earth and sky were not more distinct andapart; and the ripling stream, that rushed along with all theimpetuosity of uneven ground. 

The banks are clothed with verdure; the tall sedges, here and there, lined the sides; beds of bulrushes raised their heads high above allelse, and threw out their round clumps of blossoms like tufts, andlooked strange in the light of the moon. 

Here and there, too, the willows bent gracefully over the stream, andtheir long leaves were wafted and borne up and down by the gentler forceof the stream. 

Below, the stream widened, and ran foaming over a hard, stony bottom, and near the middle is a heap of stones--of large stones, that form thebed of the river, from which the water has washed away all earthyparticles, and left them by themselves. 

These stones in winter could not be seen, they were all under water, andthe stream washed over in a turbulent and tumultuous manner. But now, when the water was clear and low, they are many of them positively outof the water, the stream running around and through their interstices;the water-weeds here and there lying at the top of the stream, andblossoming beautifully. 

The daisy-like blossoms danced and waved gently on the moving flood, atthe same time they shone in the moonlight, like fairy faces rising fromthe depths of the river, to receive the principle of life from themoon's rays. 

'Tis sweet to wander in the moonlight at such an hour, and it is sweetto look upon such a scene with an unruffled mind, and to give way to thefeelings that are engendered by a walk by the river side. 

See, the moon is rising higher and higher, the shadows grow shorter andshorter; the river, which in places was altogether hidden by the tallwillow trees, now gradually becomes less and less hidden, and the waterbecomes more and more lit up. 

The moonbeams play gracefully on the rippling surface, here and thereappearing like liquid silver, that each instant changed its position andsurface exposed to the light. 

Such a moment--such a scene, were by far too well calculated to causethe most solemn and serious emotions of the mind, and he must have beenbut at best insensible, who could wander over meadow and through grove, and yet remain untouched by the scene of poetry and romance in which hebreathed and moved. 

At such a time, and in such a place, the world is alive with all thefiner essences of mysterious life. 'Tis at such an hour that the spiritsquit their secret abodes, and visit the earth, and whirl round theenchanted trees. 

'Tis now the spirits of earth and air dance their giddy flight fromflower to flower. 'Tis now they collect and exchange their greetings;the wood is filled with them, the meadows teem with them, the hedges atthe river side have them hidden among the deep green leaves and blades. 

But what is that yonder, on the stones, partially out of the water--whatcan it be? The more it is looked at, the more it resembles the humanform--and yet it is still and motionless on the hard stones--and yet itis a human form. The legs are lying in the water, the arms appear to bepartially in and partially out, they seem moved by the stream now andthen, but very gently--so slightly, indeed, that it might well bequestioned if it moved at all. 

The moon's rays had not yet reached it; the bank on the opposite side ofthe stream was high, and some tall trees rose up and obscured the moon. But she was rising higher and higher each moment, and, finally, when ithas reached the tops of those trees, then the rays will reach the middleof the river, and then, by degrees, it will reach the stones in theriver, and, finally, the body that lies there so still and somysteriously. 

How it came there it would be difficult to say. It appeared as though, when the waters were high, the body had floated down, and, at thesubsidence of the waters, it had been left upon the stones, and now itwas exposed to view. 

It was strange and mysterious, and those who might look upon such asight would feel their blood chill, and their body creep, to contemplatethe remains of humanity in such a place, and in such a condition as thatmust be in. 

A human life had been taken! How? Who could tell? Perhaps accident alonewas the cause of it; perhaps some one had taken a life by violent means, and thrown the body in the waters to conceal the fact and the crime. 

The waters had brought it down, and deposited it there in the middle ofthe river, without any human creature being acquainted with the fact. 

But the moon rises--the beams come trembling through the tree tops andstraggling branches, and fall upon the opposite bank, and there lies thebody, mid stream, and in comparative darkness. 

By the time the river is lit up by the moon's rays, then the object onthe stones will be visible, then it can be ascertained what appears nowonly probable, namely, is the dark object a human form or not?

In the absence of light it appears to be so, but when the flood ofsilver light falls upon it, it would be placed then beyond a doubt. 

The time is approaching--the moon each moment approaches her meridian, and each moment do the rays increase in number and in strength, whilethe shadows shorten. 

The opposite bank each moment becomes more and more distinct, and theside of the stream, the green rushes and sedges, all by degrees comefull into view. 

Now and then a fish leaps out of the stream, and just exhibits itself, as much as to say, "There are things living in the stream, and I am oneof them. "

The moment is one of awe--the presence of that mysterious anddreadful-looking object, even while its identity remains doubt, chillsthe heart--it contracts the expanding thoughts to that one object--allinterest in the scene lies centered in that one point. 

What could it be? What else but a human body? What else could assumesuch a form? But see, nearly half the stream is lit by the moonbeamsstruggling through the tree tops, and now rising above them. The lightincreases, and the shadows shorten. 

The edge of the bed of stones now becomes lit up by the moonlight; therippling stream, the bubbles, and the tiny spray that was caused by therush of water against the stones, seemed like sparkling flashes ofsilver fire. 

Then came the moonbeams upon the body, for it was raised above the levelof the water, and shewed conspicuously; for the moonbeams reached thebody before they fell on the surrounding water; for that reason then itwas the body presented a strange and ghastly object against a deep, darkbackground, by which it was surrounded. 

But this did not last long--the water in another minute was lit up bythe moon's pale beams, and then indeed could be plainly enough seen thebody of a man lying on the heap of stones motionless and ghastly. 

The colourless hue of the moonlight gave the object a most horrific andterrible appearance! The face of the dead man was turned towards themoon's rays, and the body seemed to receive all the light that couldfall upon it. 

It was a terrible object to look upon, and one that added a new andsingular interest to the scene! The world seemed then to be composedalmost exclusively of still life, and the body was no impediment to thestillness of the scene. 

It was, all else considered, a calm, beautiful scene, lovely the night, gorgeous the silvery rays that lit up the face of nature; the hill anddale, meadow, and wood, and river, all afforded contrasts strong, striking, and strange. 

But strange, and more strange than any contrast in nature, was thatafforded to the calm beauty of the night and place by the deep stillnessand quietude imposed upon the mind by that motionless human body. 

The moon's rays now fell upon its full length; the feet were lying inthe water, the head lay back, with its features turned towards thequarter of the heavens where the moon shone from; the hair floated onthe shallow water, while the face and body were exposed to allinfluences, from its raised and prominent position. 

The moonbeams had scarcely settled upon it--scarce a few minutes--whenthe body moved. Was it the water that moved it? it could not be, surely, that the moonbeams had the power of recalling life into that inanimatemass, that lay there for some time still and motionless as the verystones on which it lay. 

It was endued with life; the dead man gradually rose up, and leanedhimself upon his elbow; he paused a moment like one newly recalled tolife; he seemed to become assured he did live. He passed one handthrough his hair, which was wet, and then rose higher into a sittingposture, and then he leaned on one hand, inclining himself towards themoon. 

His breast heaved with life, and a kind of deep inspiration, or groan, came from him, as he first awoke to life, and then he seemed to pausefor a few moments. He turned gradually over, till his head inclined downthe stream. 

Just below, the water deepened, and ran swiftly and silently on amidmeads and groves of trees. The vampyre was revived; he awoke again to aghastly life; he turned from the heap of stones, he gradually allowedhimself to sink into deep water, and then, with a loud plunge, he swamto the centre of the river. 

Slowly and surely did he swim into the centre of the river, and down thestream he went. He took long, but easy strokes, for he was going downthe stream, and that aided him. 

For some distance might he be heard and seen through the openings in thetrees, but he became gradually more and more indistinct, till sound andsight both ceased, and the vampyre had disappeared. 

During the continuance of this singular scene, not one word had passedbetween the landlord and his companions. When the blacksmith fired thefowling-piece, and saw the stranger fall, apparently lifeless, upon thestepping-stones that crossed the river, he became terrified it what hehad done, and gazed upon the seeming lifeless form with a face on whichthe utmost horror was depicted. 

They all seemed transfixed to the spot, and although each would havegiven worlds to move away, a kind of nightmare seemed to possess them, which stunned all their faculties, and brought over them a torpidityfrom which they found it impossible to arouse themselves. 

But, when the apparently dead man moved again, and when, finally, thebody, which appeared so destitute of life, rolled into the stream, andfloated away with the tide, their fright might be considered to havereached its climax. The absence of the body, however, had seemingly, atall events, the effect of releasing them from the mental and physicalthraldom in which they were, and they were enabled to move from thespot, which they did immediately, making their way towards the town withgreat speed. 

As they got near, they held a sort of council of war as to what theyshould do under the circumstances, the result of which was, that theycame to a conclusion to keep all that they had done and seen tothemselves; for, if they did not, they might be called upon for somevery troublesome explanations concerning the fate of the supposedHungarian nobleman whom they had taken upon themselves to believe was avampyre, and to shoot accordingly, without taking the trouble to inquireinto the legality of such an act. 

How such a secret was likely to be kept, when it was shared amongstseven people, it is hard to say; but, if it were so kept, it could onlybe under the pressure of a strong feeling of self-preservation. 

They were forced individually, of course, to account for their absenceduring the night at their respective homes, and how they managed to dothat is best known to themselves. 

As to the landlord, he felt compelled to state that, having hissuspicions of his guest aroused, he followed him on a walk that hepretended to take, and he had gone so far, that at length he had givenup the chase, and lost his own way in returning. 

Thus was it, then, that this affair still preserved all its mystery, with a large superadded amount of fear attendant upon it; for, if themysterious guest were really anything supernatural, might he not comeagain in a much more fearful shape, and avenge the treatment he hadreceived?

The only person who fell any disappointment in the affair, or whoseexpectations were not realised, was the boy who had made the appointmentwith the supposed vampyre at the end of the lane, and who was to havereceived what he considered so large a reward for pointing out theretreat of Sir Francis Varney. 

He waited in vain for the arrival of the Hungarian nobleman, and, atlast, indignation got the better of him, and he walked away. Feelingthat he had been jilted, he resolved to proceed to the public-house anddemand the half-crowns which had been so liberally promised him; butwhen he reached there he found that the party whom he sought was notwithin, nor the landlord either, for that was the precise time when thatworthy individual was pursuing his guest over meadow and bill, throughbrake and through briar, towards the stepping stones on the river. 

What the boy further did on the following day, when he found that he wasto reap no more benefit for the adventure, we shall soon perceive. 

As for the landlord, he did endeavour to catch a few hours' briefrepose; but as he dreamed that the Hungarian nobleman came in thelikeness of a great toad, and sat upon his chest, feeling like theweight of a mountain, while he, the landlord, tried to scream and cryfor help, but found that he could neither do one thing nor the other, wemay guess that his repose did not at all invigorate him. 

As he himself expressed it, he got up all of a shake, with a strongimpression that he was a very ill-used individual, indeed, to have hadthe nightmare in the day time. 

And now we will return to the cottage where the Bannerworth family wereat all events, making themselves quite as happy as they did at theirancient mansion, in order to see what is there passing, and how Dr. Chillingworth made an effort to get up some evidence of something thatthe Bannerworth family knew nothing of, therefore could not very well beexpected to render him much assistance. That he did, however, make whathe considered an important discovery, we shall perceive in the course ofthe ensuing chapter, in which it will be seen that the best hiddenthings will, by the merest accident, sometimes come to light, and that, too, when least expected by any one at all connected with the result. 

CHAPTER LXXXVI. 

THE DISCOVERY OF THE POCKET BOOK OF MARMADUKE BANNERWORTH. --ITSMYSTERIOUS CONTENTS. 

[Illustration]

The little episode had just taken place which we have recorded betweenthe old admiral and Jack Pringle, when Henry Bannerworth and CharlesHolland stepped aside to converse. 

"Charles, " said Henry, "it has become absolutely necessary that I shouldput an end to this state of dependence in which we all live upon youruncle. It is too bad to think, that because, through fighting thebattles of his country, he has amassed some money, we are to eat it up. "

"My dear friend, " said Charles, "does it not strike you, that it wouldbe a great deal worse than too bad, if my uncle could not do what heliked with his own?"

"Yes; but, Charles, that is not the question. "

"I think it is, though I know not what other question you can make ofit. "

"We have all talked it over, my mother, my brother, and Flora; and mybrother and I have determined, if this state of things should last muchlonger, to find out some means of honourable exertion by which we may, at all events, maintain ourselves without being burdensome to any. "

"Well, well, we will talk of that another time. "

"Nay, but hear me; we were thinking that if we went into some branch ofthe public service, your uncle would have the pleasure, such we arequite sure it would be to him, of assisting us greatly by his name andinfluence. "

"Well, well, Henry, that's all very well; but for a little time do notthrow up the old man and make him unhappy. I believe I am his onlyrelative in the world, and, as he has often said, he intended leaving meheir to all he possesses, you see there is no harm done by you receivinga small portion of it beforehand. "

"And, " said Henry, "by that line of argument, we are to find an excusefor robbing your uncle; in the fact, that we are robbing you likewise. "

"No, no; indeed, you do not view the matter rightly. "

"Well, all I can say is, Charles, that while I feel, and while we allfeel, the deepest debt of gratitude towards your uncle, it is our dutyto do something. In a box which we have brought with us from the Hall, and which has not been opened since our father's death, I have stumbledover some articles of ancient jewellery and plate, which, at all events, will produce something. "

"But which you must not part with. "

"Nay, but, Charles, these are things I knew not we possessed, and mostill-suited do they happen to be to our fallen fortunes. It is money wewant, not the gewgaws of a former state, to which we can have now nosort of pretension. "

"Nay, I know you have all the argument; but still is there something sadand uncomfortable to one's feelings in parting with such things as thosewhich have been in families for many years. "

"But we knew not that we had them; remember that, Charles. Come and lookat them. Those relics of a bygone age may amuse you, and, as regardsmyself, there are no circumstances whatever associated with them thatgive them any extrinsic value; so laugh at them or admire them, as youplease, I shall most likely be able to join with you in either feeling. "

"Well, be it so--I will come and look at them; but you must think betterof what you say concerning my uncle, for I happen to know--which youought likewise by this time--how seriously the old man would feel anyrejection on your part of the good he fancies he is doing you. I tellyou, Henry, it is completely his hobby, and let him have earned hismoney with ten times the danger he has, he could not spend it withanything like the satisfaction that he does, unless he were allowed todispose of it in this way. "

"Well, well; be it so for a time. "

"The fact is, his attachment to Flora is so great--which is a mostfortunate circumstance for me--that I should not be at all surprisedthat she cuts me out of one half my estate, when the old man dies. Butcome, we will look at your ancient bijouterie. "

Henry led Charles into an apartment of the cottage where some of the fewthings had been placed that were brought from Bannerworth Hall, whichwere not likely to be in constant and daily use. 

Among these things happened to be the box which Henry had mentioned, andfrom which he had taken a miscellaneous assortment of things of anantique and singular character. 

There were old dresses of a season and of a taste long gone by; ancientarticles of defence; some curiously wrought daggers; and a fewornaments, pretty, but valueless, along with others of more sterlingpretensions, which Henry pointed out to Charles. 

"I am almost inclined to think, " said the latter, "that some of thesethings are really of considerable value; but I do not I profess to be anaccurate judge, and, perhaps, I am more taken with the beauty of anarticle, than the intrinsic worth. What is that which you have justtaken from the box?"

"It seems a half-mask, " said Henry, "made of silk; and here are initialletters within it--M. B. "

"To what do they apply?"

"Marmaduke Bannerworth, my father. "

"I regret I asked you. "

"Nay, Charles, you need not. Years have now elapsed since that misguidedman put a period to his own existence, in the gardens of BannerworthHall. Of course, the shock was a great one to us all, although I mustconfess that we none of us knew much of a father's affections. But timereconciles one to these dispensations, and to a friend, like yourself, Ican talk upon these subjects without a pang. "

He laid down the mask, and proceeded further in his search in the oldbox. 

Towards the bottom of it there were some books, and, crushed in by theside of them, there was an ancient-looking pocket-book, which Charlespointed out, saying, --

"There, Henry, who knows but you may find a fortune when you leastexpect it?"

"Those who expect nothing, " said Henry, "will not be disappointed. Atall events, as regards this pocket-book, you see it is empty. "

"Not quite. A card has fallen from it. "

Charles took up the card, and read upon it the name of Count Barrare. 

"That name, " he said, "seems familiar to me. Ah! now I recollect, I haveread of such a man. He flourished some twenty, or five-and-twenty yearsago, and was considered a _roue_ of the first water--a finishedgamester; and, in a sort of brief memoir I read once of him, it saidthat he disappeared suddenly one day, and was never again heard of. "

"Indeed! I'm not puzzled to think how his card came into my father'spocket-book. They met at some gaming-house; and, if some old pocket-bookof the Count Barrare's were shaken, there might fall from it a card, with the name of Mr. Marmaduke Bannerworth upon it. "

"Is there nothing further in the pocket-book--no memoranda?"

"I will look. Stay! here is something upon one of the leaves--let mesee--'Mem. , twenty-five thousand pounds! He who robs the robber, stealslittle; it was not meant to kill him: but it will be unsafe to use themoney for a time--my brain seems on fire--the remotest hiding-place inthe house is behind the picture. "

"What do you think of that?" said Charles. 

"I know not what to think. There is one thing though, that I do know. "

"And what is that?"

"It is my father's handwriting. I have many scraps of his, and hispeculiar hand is familiar to me. "

"It's very strange, then, what it can refer to. "

"Charles--Charles! there is a mystery connected with our fortunes, thatI never could unravel; and once or twice it seemed as if we were uponthe point of discovering all; but something has ever interfered toprevent us, and we have been thrown back into the realms of conjecture. My father's last words were, 'The money is hidden;' and then he tried toadd something; but death stopped his utterance. Now, does it not almostseem that this memorandum alluded to the circumstance?"

"It does, indeed. "

"And then, scarcely had my father breathed his last, when a man comesand asks for him at the garden-gate, and, upon hearing that he is dead, utters some imprecations, and walks away. "

"Well, Henry, you must trust to time and circumstances to unravel thesemysteries. For myself, I own that I cannot do so; I see no earthly wayout of the difficulty whatever. But still it does appear to me as if Dr. Chillingworth knew something or had heard something, with which hereally ought to make you acquainted. "

"Do not blame the worthy doctor; he may have made an error of judgment, but never one of feeling; and you may depend, if he is keeping anythingfrom me, that he is doing so from some excellent motive: most probablybecause he thinks it will give me pain, and so will not let me endureany unhappiness from it, unless he is quite certain as regards thefacts. When he is so, you may depend he will be communicative, and Ishall know all that he has to relate. But, Charles, it is evident to methat you, too, are keeping something. "

"I!"

"Yes; you acknowledge to having had an interview, and a friendly one, with Varney; and you likewise acknowledge that he had told you thingswhich he has compelled you to keep secret. "

"I have promised to keep them secret, and I deeply regret the promisethat I have made. There cannot be anything to my mind more essentiallydisagreeable than to have one's tongue tied in one's interview withfriends. I hate to hear anything that I may not repeat to those whom Itake into my own confidence. "

"I can understand the feeling; but here comes the worthy doctor. "

"Show him the memorandum. "

"I will. "

As Dr. Chillingworth entered the apartments Henry handed him thememorandum that had been found in the old pocket-book, saying as he didso, --

"Look at that, doctor, and give us your candid opinion upon it. "

Dr. Chillingworth fitted on his spectacles, and read the papercarefully. At its conclusion, he screwed up his mouth into an extremelysmall compass, and doubling up the paper, he put it into his capaciouswaistcoat pocket, saying as he did so, --

"Oh! oh! oh! oh! hum!"

"Well, doctor, " said Henry; "we are waiting for your opinion. "

"My opinion! Well, then, my dear boy, I must say, my opinion, to thebest of my belief is, that I really don't know anything about it. "

"Then, perhaps, you'll surrender us the memorandum, " said Charles;"because, if you don't know anything, we may as well make a littleinquiry. "

"Ha!" said the worthy doctor; "we can't put old heads upon youngshoulders, that's quite clear. Now, my good young men, be patient andquiet; recollect, that what you know you're acquainted with, and thatthat which is hidden from you, you cannot very well come to any verycorrect conclusion upon. There's a right side and a wrong one you maydepend, to every question; and he who walks heedlessly in the dark, isvery apt to run his head against a post. Good evening, my boys--goodevening. "

Away bustled the doctor. 

"Well, " said Charles, "what do you think of that, Mr. Henry?"

"I think he knows what he's about. "

"That may be; but I'll be hanged if anybody else does. The doctor is byno means favourable to the march of popular information; and I reallythink he might have given us some food for reflection, instead ofleaving us so utterly and entirely at fault as he has; and you know he'staken away your memorandum even. "

"Let him have it, Charles--let him have it; it is safe with him. The oldman may be, and I believe is, a little whimsical and crotchety; but hemeans abundantly well, and he's just one of those sort of persons, andalways was, who will do good his own way, or not at all; so we must takethe good with the bad in those cases, and let Dr. Chillingworth do as hepleases. "

"I cannot say it is nothing to me, although those words were rising tomy lips, because you know, Henry, that everything which concerns you oryours is something to me; and therefore it is that I feel extremelyanxious for the solution of all this mystery. Before I hear the sequelof that which Varney, the vampyre, has so strongly made me a confidantof, I will, at all events, make an effort to procure his permission tocommunicate it to all those who are in any way beneficially interestedin the circumstances. Should he refuse me that permission, I am almostinclined myself to beg him to withhold his confidence. "

"Nay, do not do so, Charles--do not do that, I implore you. Recollect, although you cannot make us joint recipients with you in your knowledge, you can make use of it, probably, to our advantage, in saving us, perchance, from the different consequences, so that you can make whatyou know in some way beneficial to us, although not in every way. "

"There is reason in that, and I give in at once. Be it so, Henry. I willwait on him, and if I cannot induce him to change his determination, andallow me to tell some other as well as Flora, I must give in, and takethe thing as a secret, although I shall not abandon a hope, even afterhe has told me all he has to tell, that I may induce him to permit me tomake a general confidence, instead of the partial one he has empoweredme to do. "

"It may be so; and, at all events, we must not reject a proffered goodbecause it is not quite so complete as it might be. "

"You are right; I will keep my appointment with him, entertaining themost sanguine hope that our troubles and disasters--I say our, because Iconsider myself quite associated in thought, interest, and feelings withyour family--may soon be over. "

"Heaven grant it may be so, for your's and Flora's sake; but I feel thatBannerworth Hall will never again be the place it was to us. I shouldprefer that we sought for new associations, which I have no doubt we mayfind, and that among us we get up some other home that would be happier, because not associated with so many sad scenes in our history. "

"Be it so; and I am sure that the admiral would gladly give way to suchan arrangement. He has often intimated that he thought Bannerworth Halla dull place; consequently, although he pretends to have purchased it ofyou, I think he will be very glad to leave it. "

[Illustration]

"Be it so, then. If it should really happen that we are upon the eve ofany circumstances that will really tend to relieve us from our miseryand embarrassments, we will seek for some pleasanter abode than theHall, which you may well imagine, since it became the scene of thatdreadful tragedy that left us fatherless, has borne but a distastefulappearance to all our eyes. "

"I don't wonder at that, and am only surprised that, after such a thinghad happened any of you liked to inhabit the place. "

"We did not like, but our poverty forced us. You have no notion of thedifficulties through which we have struggled; and the fact that we had ahome rent free was one of so much importance to us, that had it beensurrounded by a thousand more disagreeables than it was, we must haveput up with it; but now that we owe so much to the generosity of youruncle, I suppose we can afford to talk of what we like and of what wedon't like. "

"You can, Henry, and it shall not be my fault if you do not alwaysafford to do so; and now, as the time is drawing on, I think I willproceed at once to Varney, for it is better to be soon than late, andget from him the remainder of his story. "

 * * * * *

There were active influences at work, to prevent Sir Francis Varney fromso quickly as he had arranged to do, carrying out his intention ofmaking Charles Holland acquainted with the history of the eventfulperiod of his life, which had been associated with MarmadukeBannerworth. 

One would have scarcely thought it possible that anything now would haveprevented Varney from concluding his strange narrative; but that he wasprevented, will appear. 

The boy who had been promised such liberal payment by the Hungariannobleman, for betraying the place of Varney's concealment, we havealready stated, felt bitterly the disappointment of not being met, according to promise, at the corner of the lane, by that individual. 

It not only deprived him of the half-crowns, which already inimagination he had laid out, but it was a great blow to his ownimportance, for after his discovery of the residence of the vampyre, helooked upon himself as quite a public character, and expected greatapplause for his cleverness. 

But when the Hungarian nobleman came not, all these dreams began tovanish into thin air, and, like the unsubstantial fabric of a vision, toleave no trace behind them. 

He got dreadfully aggravated, and his first thought was to go to Varney, and see what he could get from him, by betraying the fact that some onewas actively in search of him. 

That seemed, however, a doubtful good, and perhaps there was somepersonal dread of the vampyre mixed up with the rejection of thisproposition. But reject it he did, and then he walked moodily into theown without any fixed resolution of what he should do. 

All that he thought of was a general idea that he should like to createsome mischief, if possible--what it was he cared not, so long as it madea disturbance. 

Now, he knew well that the most troublesome and fidgetty man in the townwas Tobias Philpots, a saddler, who was always full of everybody'sbusiness but his own, and ever ready to hear any scandal of hisneighbours. 

"I have a good mind, " said the boy, "to go to old Philpots, and tell himall about it, that I have. "

The good mind soon strengthened itself into a fixed resolution, and fullof disdain and indignation at the supposed want of faith of theHungarian nobleman, he paused opposite the saddler's door. 

Could he but for a moment have suspected the real reason why theappointment had not been kept with him, all his curiosity would havebeen doubly aroused, and he would have followed the landlord of the innand his associate upon the track of the second vampyre that had visitedthe town. 

But of this he knew nothing, for that proceeding had been conducted withamazing quietness; and the fact of the Hungarian nobleman, when he foundthat he was followed, taking a contrary course to that in which Varneywas concealed, prevented the boy from knowing anything of his movements. 

Hence the thing looked to him like a piece of sheer neglect andcontemptuous indifference, which he felt bound to resent. 

He did not pause long at the door of the saddler's, but, after a fewmoments, he walked boldly in, and said, --

"Master Philpots, I have got something extraordinary to tell you, andyou may give me what you like for telling you. "

"Go on, then, " said the saddler, "that's just the price I always likesto pay for everything. "

"Will you keep it secret?" said the boy. 

"Of course I will. When did you ever hear of me telling anything to asingle individual?"

"Never to a single individual, but I have heard you tell things to thewhole town. "

"Confound your impudence. Get out of my shop directly. "

"Oh! very good. I can go and tell old Mitchell, the pork-butcher. "

"No, I say--stop; don't tell him. If anybody is to know, let it be me, and I'll promise you I'll keep it secret. "

"Very good, " said the boy, returning, "you shall know it; and, mind, youhave promised me to keep it secret, so that if it gets known, you knowit cannot be any fault of mine. "

The fact was, the boy was anxious it should be known, only that in casesome consequences might arise, he thought he would quiet his ownconscience, by getting a promise of secrecy from Tobias Philpots, whichhe well knew that individual would not think of keeping. 

He then related to him the interview he had had with the Hungariannobleman at the inn, how he had promised a number of half-crowns, but avery small instalment of which he had received. 

All this Master Philpots cared very little for, but the information thatthe dreaded Varney, the vampyre, was concealed so close to the town wasa matter of great and abounding interest, and at that part of the storyhe suddenly pricked up his ears amazingly. 

"Why, you don't mean to say that?" he exclaimed. "Are you sure it washe?"

"Yes, I am quite certain. I have seen I him more than once. It was SirFrancis Varney, without any mistake. "

"Why, then you may depend he's only waiting until it's very dark, andthen he will walk into somebody, and suck his blood. Here's a horriddiscovery! I thought we had had enough of Master Varney, and that hewould hardly show himself here again, and now you tell me he is not tenminutes' walk off. "

"It's a fact, " said the boy. "I saw him go in, and he looks thinner andmore horrid than ever. I am sure he wants a dollop of blood fromsomebody. "

"I shouldn't wonder. "

"Now there is Mrs. Philpots, you know, sir; she's rather big, and seemsmost ready to burst always; I shouldn't wonder if the vampyre came toher to-night. "

"Wouldn't you?" said Mrs. Philpots, who had walked into the shop, andoverheard the whole conversation; "wouldn't you, really? I'll vampyreyou, and teach you to make these remarks about respectable marriedwomen. You young wretch, take that, will you!"

She gave the boy such a box on the ears, that the place seemed to spinround with him. As soon as he recovered sufficiently to be enabled towalk, he made his way from the shop with abundance of precipitation, much regretting that he had troubled himself to make a confidant ofMaster Philpots. 

But, however, he could not but tell himself that if his object was tomake a general disturbance through the whole place, he had certainlysucceeded in doing so. 

He slunk home perhaps with a feeling that he might be called upon totake part in something that might ensue, and at all events be compelledto become a guide to the place of Sir Francis Varney's retreat, in whichcase, for all he knew, the vampyre might, by some more than mortalmeans, discover what a hand he had had in the matter, and punish himaccordingly. 

The moment he hid left the saddler's Mrs. Philpots, after using somebitter reproaches to her husband for not at once sacrificing the boyupon the spot for the disrespectful manner in which he had spoken ofher, hastily put on her bonnet and shawl, and the saddler, although itwas a full hour before the usual time, began putting up the shutters ofhis shop. 

"Why, my dear, " he said to Mrs. Philpots, when she came down stairsequipped for the streets, "why, my dear, where are you going?"

"And pray, sir, what are you shutting up the shop for at this time ofthe evening!"

"Oh! why, the fact is, I thought I'd just go to the Rose and Crown, andmention that the vampyre was so near at hand. "

"Well, Mr. Philpots, and in that case there can be no harm in my callingupon some of my acquaintance and mentioning it likewise. "

"Why, I don't suppose there would be much harm; only remember, Mrs. Philpots, remember if you please---"

"Remember what?"

"To tell everybody to keep it secret. "

"Oh, of course I will; and mind you do it likewise. "

"Most decidedly. "

The shop was closed, Mr. Philpots ran off to the Rose and Crown, andMrs, Philpots, with as much expedition as she could, purposed making thegrand tour of all her female acquaintance in the town, just to tellthem, as a great secret, that the vampyre, Sir Francis Varney, as hecalled himself, had taken refuge at the house that was to let down thelane leading to Higgs's farm. 

"But by no means, " she said, "let it go no further, because it is a verywrong thing to make any disturbance, and you will understand that it'squite a secret. "

She was listened to with breathless attention, as may well be supposed, and it was a singular circumstance that at every house she left someother lady put on her bonnet and shawl, and ran out to make the circleof her acquaintance, with precisely the same story, and precisely thesame injunctions to secrecy. 

And, as Mr. Philpots pursued an extremely similar course, we are notsurprised that in the short space of one hour the news should havespread through all the town, and that there was scarcely a child oldenough to understand what was being talked about, who was ignorant ofthe fact, that Sir Francis Varney was to be found at the empty housedown the lane. 

It was an unlucky time, too, for the night was creeping on, a period atwhich people's apprehension of the supernatural becomes each momentstronger and more vivid--a period at which a number of idlers are letloose for different employments, and when anything in the shape of a rowor a riot presents itself in pleasant colours to those who have nothingto lose and who expect, under the cover of darkness, to be able tocommit outrages they would be afraid to think of in the daytime, whenrecognition would be more easy. 

Thus was it that Sir Francis Varney's position, although he knew it not, became momentarily one of extreme peril, and the danger he was about torun, was certainly greater than any he had as yet experienced. HadCharles Holland but known what was going on, he would undoubtedly havedone something to preserve the supposed vampyre from the mischief thatthreatened him, but the time had not arrived when he had promised to payhim a second visit, so he had no idea of anything serious havingoccurred. 

Perhaps, too, Mr. And Mrs. Philpots scarcely anticipated creating somuch confusion, but when they found that the whole place was in anuproar, and that a tumultuous assemblage of persons called aloud forvengeance upon Varney, the vampyre, they made their way home again in nosmall fright. 

And, now, what was the result of all these proceedings will be bestknown by our introducing the reader to the interior of the house inwhich Varney had found a temporary refuge, and following in detail hisproceedings as he waited for the arrival of Charles Holland. 

CHAPTER LXXXVII. 

THE HUNT FOR VARNEY. --THE HOUSE-TOPS. --THE MIRACULOUS ESCAPE. --THE LASTPLACE OF REFUGE. --THE COTTAGE. 

[Illustration]

On the tree tops the moon shines brightly, and the long shadows areshooting its rays down upon the waters, and the green fields appearclothed in a flood of silver light; the little town was quiet andtranquil--nature seemed at rest. 

The old mansion in which Sir Francis Varney had taken refuge, stoodempty and solitary; it seemed as though it were not associated with theothers by which it was surrounded. It was gloomy, and in the moonlightit reminded one of things long gone by, existences that had once been, but now no longer of this present time--a mere memento of the past. 

Sir Francis Varney reclined upon the house-top; he gazed upon the sky, and upon the earth; he saw the calm tranquillity that reigned around, and could not but admire what he saw; he sighed, he seemed to sigh, froma pleasure he felt in the fact of his security; he could repose therewithout fear, and breathe the balmy air that fanned his cheek. 

"Certainly, " he muttered, "things might have been worse, but not muchworse; however, they might have been much better; the ignorant areaway--the most to be feared, because they have no guide and no control, save what can be exerted over them by their fears and their passions. "

He paused to look again over the scene, and, as far as the eye couldreach, and that, moonlight as it was, was many miles, the country wasdiversified with hill and dale, meadow and ploughed land; the openfields, and the darker woods, and the silvery stream that ran at nogreat distance, all presented a scene that was well calculated to warmthe imagination, and to give the mind that charm which a cultivatedunderstanding is capable of receiving. 

There was but one thing wanted to make such a scene one of purehappiness, and that was all absence of care of fears for the future andthe wants of life. 

Suddenly there was a slight sound that came from the town. It was veryslight, but the ears of Sir Francis Varney were painfully acute of late;the least sound that came across him was heard in a moment, and hiswhole visage was changed to one of listening interest. 

The sound was hushed; but his attention was not lulled, for he had beenplaced in circumstances that made all his vigilance necessary for hisown preservation. Hence it was, what another would have passed over, ornot heard at all, he both heard and noticed. He was not sure of thenature of the sound, it was so slight and so indistinct. 

There it was again! Some persons were moving about in the town. Thesounds that came upon the night air seemed to say that there was anunusual bustle in the town, which was, to Sir Francis Varney, ominous inthe extreme. 

What could people in such a quiet, retired place require out at such anhour at night? It must be something very unusual--something that mustexcite them to a great degree; and Sir Francis began to feel veryuneasy. 

"They surely, " he muttered to himself--"they surely cannot have foundout my hiding place, and intend to hunt me from it, the blood-thirstyhounds! they are never satisfied. The mischief they are permitted to doon one occasion is but the precursor to another. The taste has causedthe appetite for more, and nothing short of his blood can satisfy it. "

The sounds increased, and the noise came nearer and nearer, and itappeared as though a number of men had collected together and werecoming towards him. Yes, they were coming down the lane towards thedeserted mansion where he was. 

For once in his life, Sir Francis Varney trembled; he felt sick atheart, though no man was less likely to give up hope and to despair thanhe; yet this sign of unrelenting hatred and persecution was toounequivocal and too stern not to produce its effect upon even his mind;for he had no doubt but that they were coming with the express purposeof seeking him. 

How they could have found him out was a matter he could not imagine. TheBannerworths could not have betrayed him--he was sure of that; and yetwho could have seen him, so cautious and so careful as he had been, andso very sparing had he lived, because he would not give the slightestcause for all that was about to follow. He hoped to have hidden himself;but now he could hear the tramp of men distinctly, and their voices camenow on the night air, though it was in a subdued tone, as if they weredesirous of approaching unheard and unseen by their victim. 

Sir Francis Varney stirred not from his position. He remained silent andmotionless. He appeared not to heed what was going on; perhaps he hopedto see them go by--to be upon some false scent; or, if they saw no signsof life, they might leave the place, and go elsewhere. 

Hark! they stop at the house--they go not by; they seem to pause, andthen a thundering knock came at the door, which echoed and re-echoedthrough the empty and deserted house, on the top of which sat, in silentexpectation, the almost motionless Sir Francis Varney, the redoubtedvampyre. 

The knock which came so loud and so hard upon the door caused Sir

Francis to start visibly, for it seemed his own knell. Then, as if themob were satisfied with their knowledge of his presence, and of theirvictory, and of his inability to escape them, they sent up a loud shoutthat filled the whole neighbourhood with its sound. 

It seemed to come from below and around the house; it rose from allsides, and that told Sir Francis Varney that the house was surroundedand all escape was cut off; there was no chance of his being able torush through such a multitude of men as that which now encircled him. 

With the calmest despair, Sir Francis Varney lay still and motionless onthe house-top, and listened to the sounds that proceeded from below. Shout after shout arose on the still, calm air of the night; knock afterknock came upon the stout old door, which awakened responsive echoesthroughout the house that had for many years lain dormant, and which nowseemed disturbed, and resounded in hollow murmurs to the voices fromwithout. 

Then a loud voice shouted from below, as if to be heard by any one whomight be within, --

"Sir Francis Varney, the vampyre, come out and give yourself up atdiscretion! If we have to search for you, you may depend it will be topunish you; you will suffer by burning. Come out and give yourself up. "

There was a pause, and then a loud shout. 

Sir Francis Varney paid no attention to this summons, but sat, motionless, on the house-top, where he could hear all that passed belowin the crowd. 

"He will not come out, " said one. 

"Ah! he's much too cunning to be caught in such a trap. Why, he knowswhat you would do with him; he knows you would stake him, and make abonfire about him. "

"So he has no taste for roasting, " remarked another; "but still, it's nouse hiding; we have too many hands, and know the house too well to beeasily baffled. "

"That may be; and, although he don't like burning, yet we will unearththe old fox, somehow or other; we have discovered his haunt at last, andcertainly we'll have him out. "

"How shall we get in?"

"Knock in the door--break open the door! the front door--that is thebest, because it leads to all parts of the house, and we can secure anyone who attempts to move from one to the other, as they come down. "

"Hurrah!" shouted several men in the crowd. 

"Hurrah!" echoed the mob, with one accord, and the shout rent the air, and disturbed the quietude and serenity that scarce five minutes beforereigned through the place. 

Then, as if actuated by one spirit, they all set to work to force thedoor in. It was strong, and capable of great defence, and employed them, with some labour, for fifteen or twenty minutes, and then, with a loudcrash, the door fell in. 

"Hurrah!" again shouted the crowd. 

These shouts announced the fall of the door, and then, and not untilthen, did Sir Francis Varney stir. 

"They have broken in the door, " he muttered, "well, if die I must, Iwill sell my life dearly. However, all is not yet lost, and, in thestruggle for life, the loss is not so much felt. "

He got up, and crept towards the trap that led into the house, or out ofit, as the occasion might require. 

"The vampyre! the vampyre!" shouted a man who stood on a garden wall, holding on by the arm of an apple-tree. 

"Varney, the vampyre!" shouted a second. 

"Hurrah! boys, we are on the right scent; now for a hunt; hurrah! weshall have him now. "

They rushed in a tumultuous riot up the stone steps, and into the hall. It was a large, spacious place, with a grand staircase that led up tothe upper floor, but it had two ends, and then terminated in a gallery. 

It could not be defended by one man, save at the top, where it could notlong be held, because the assailants could unite, and throw their wholeweight against the entrance, and thus storm it. This actually happened. 

They looked up, and, seeing nobody, they rushed up, some by one stair, and some by the other; but it was dark; there were but few of the moon'srays that pierced the gloom of that place, and those who first reachedthe place which we have named, were seized with astonishment, staggered, and fell. 

Sir Francis Varney had met them; he stood there with a staff--somethinghe had found about the house--not quite so long as a broom-handle, butsomewhat thicker and heavier, being made of stout ash. 

This formidable weapon, Sir Francis Varney wielded with strength andresolution; he was a tall man, and one of no mean activity and personalstrength, and such a weapon, in his hands, was one of a most fearfulcharacter, and, for the occasion, much better than his sword. 

Man after man fell beneath the fearful brace of these blows, for thoughthey could not see Sir Francis, yet he could see them, or thehall-lights were behind them at the time, while he stood in the dark, and took advantage of this to deal murderous blows upon his assailants. 

This continued for some minutes, till they gave way before such avigorous defence, and paused. 

"On, neighbours, on, " cried one; "will you be beaten off by one man?Rush in at once and you must force him from his position--push him hard, and he must give way. "

"Ay, " said one fellow who sat upon the ground rubbing his head; "it'sall very well to say push him hard, but if you felt the weight of thatd----d pole on your head, you wouldn't be in such a blessed hurry. "

However true that might be, there was but little attention paid to it, and a determined rush was made at the entrance to the gallery, and theyfound that it was unoccupied; and that was explained by the slamming ofa door, and its being immediately locked upon them; and when the mobcame to the door, they found they had to break their way through anotherdoor. 

This did not take long in effecting; and in less than five minutes theyhad broken through that door which led into another room; but the firstman who entered it fell from a crashing blow on the head from the ashenstaff of Sir Francis Varney, who hurried and fled, closely pursued, until he came to another door, through which he dashed. 

Here he endeavoured to make a stand and close it, but was immediatelystruck and grappled with; but he threw his assailant, and turned andfled again. 

His object had been to defend each inch of the ground as long as he wasable; but he found they came too close upon his steps, and prevented histurning in time to try the strength of his staff upon the foremost. 

He dashed up the first staircase with surprising rapidity, leaving hispursuers behind; and when he had gained the first landing, he turnedupon those who pursued him, who could hardly follow him two abreast. 

"Down with the vampyre!" shouted the first, who rushed up heedless ofthe staff. 

"Down with a fool!" thundered Varney, as he struck the fellow a terrificblow, which covered his face with blood, and he fell back into the armsof his companions. 

A bitter groan and execration arose from them below, and again theyshouted, and rushed up headlong. 

"Down with the vampyre!" was again shouted, and met by a corresponding, but deep guttural sound of--

"Down with a fool!"

And sure enough the first again came to the earth without anypreparation, save the application of an ashen stick to his skull, which, by-the-bye, no means aided the operation of thinking. 

Several more shared a similar fate; but they pressed hard, and SirFrancis was compelled to give ground to keep them at the necessarylength from him, as they rushed on regardless of his blows, and if hehad not he would soon have been engaged in a personal struggle, for theywere getting too close for him to use the staff. 

"Down with the vampyre!" was the renewed cry, as they drove him fromspot to spot until he reached the roof of the house, and then he ran upthe steps to the loft, which he had just reached when they came up tothe bottom. 

Varney attempted to draw the ladder up but four or five stout men heldthat down; then by a sudden turn, as they were getting up, he turned itover, threw those on it down, and the ladder too, upon the heads ofthose who were below. 

"Down with the vampyre!" shouted the mob, as they, with the mostuntiring energy, set the ladder, or steps, against the loft, and as manyas could held it, while others rushed up to attack Varney with all theferocity and courage of so many bull dogs. 

It was strange, but the more they were baffled the more enraged anddetermined they rushed on to a new attack, with greater resolution thanever. 

On this occasion, however, they were met with a new kind of missile, forSir Francis had either collected and placed there for the occasion, orthey had been left there for years, a number of old bricks, which layclose at hand. These he took, one by one, and deliberately took aim atthem, and flung them with great force, striking down every one they hit. 

This caused them to recoil; the bricks caused fearful gashes in theirheads, and the wounds were serious, the flesh being, in many places, torn completely off. They however, only paused, for one man said, --

"Be of good heart, comrades, we can do as he does; he has furnished uswith weapons, and we can thus attack him in two ways, and he must giveway in the end. "

"Hurrah! down with the vampyre!" sounded from all sides, and the shoutwas answered by a corresponding rush. 

It was true; Sir Francis had furnished them with weapons to attackhimself, for they could throw them back at him, which they did, andstruck him a severe blow on the head, and it covered his face with bloodin a moment. 

"Hurrah!" shouted the assailants; "another such a blow, and all will beover with the vampyre. "

"He's got--"

"Press him sharp, now, " cried another man, as he aimed another blow witha brick, which struck Varney on the arm, causing him to drop the brickhe held in his hand. He staggered back, apparently in great pain. 

"Up! up! we have him now; he cannot get away; he's hurt; we have him--wehave him. "

And up they went with all the rapidity they could scramble up the steps;but this had given Varney time to recover himself; and though his rightarm was almost useless, yet he contrived, with his left, to pitch thebricks so as to knock over the first three or four, when, seeing that hecould not maintain his position to advantage, he rushed to the outsideof the house, the last place he had capable of defence. 

There was a great shout by those outside, when they saw him come out andstand with his staff, and those who came first got first served, for theblows resounded, while he struck them, and sent them over below. 

Then came a great shout from within and without, and then a desperaterush was made at the door, and, in the next instant, Varney was seenflying, followed by his pursuers, one after the other, some tumblingover the tiles, to the imminent hazard of their necks. 

Sir Francis Varney rushed along with a speed that appeared by far toogreat to admit of being safely followed, and yet those who followedappeared infected by his example, and appeared heedless of allconsequences by which their pursuit might be attended to themselves. 

"Hurrah!" shouted the mob below. 

"Hurrah!" answered the mob on the tiles. 

Then, over several housetops might be seen the flying figure of SirFrancis Varney, pursued by different men at a pace almost equal to hisown. 

They, however, could keep up the same speed, and not improve upon it, while he kept the advantage he first obtained in the start. 

Then suddenly he disappeared. 

It seemed to the spectators below that he had dropped through a house, and they immediately surrounded the house, as well as they could, andthen set up another shout. 

This took place several times, and as often was the miserable man huntedfrom his place of refuge only to seek another, from which he was in likemanner hunted by those who thirsted for his blood. 

On one occasion, they drove him into a house which was surrounded, saveat one point, which had a long room, or building in it, that ran somedistance out, and about twenty feet high. 

At the entrance to the roof of this place, or leads, he stood anddefended himself for some moments with success; but having received ablow himself, he was compelled to retire, while the mob behind forcedthose in front forward faster than he could by any exertion wield thestaff that had so much befriended him on this occasion. 

He was, therefore, on the point of being overwhelmed by numbers, when hefled; but, alas! there was no escape; a bare coping stone and rails ranround the top of that. 

There was not much time for hesitation, but he jumped over the rails andlooked below. It was a great height, but if he fell and hurt himself, heknew he was at the mercy of the bloodhounds behind him, who would doanything but show him any mercy, or spare him a single pang. 

He looked round and beheld his pursuers close upon him, and one was soclose to him that he seized upon his arm, saying, as he shouted to hiscompanions, --

"Hurrah, boys! I have him. "

With an execration, Sir Francis wielded his staff with such force, thathe struck the fellow on the head, crushing in his hat as if it had beenonly so much paper. The man fell, but a blow followed from some one elsewhich caused Varney to relax his hold, and finding himself falling, he, to save himself, sprang away. 

The rails, at that moment, were crowded with men who leaned over toascertain the effect of the leap. 

"He'll be killed, " said one. 

"He's sure to be smashed, " said another. 

"I'll lay any wager he'll break a limb!" said a third. 

Varney came to the earth--for a moment he lay stunned, and not able tomove hand or foot. 

"Hurrah!" shouted the mob. 

Their triumph was short, for just as they shouted Varney arose, andafter a moment or two's stagger he set off at full speed, which producedanother shout from the mob; and just at that moment, a body of hispursuers were seen scaling the walls after him. 

There was now a hunt through all the adjoining fields--from cover aftercover they pursued him until he found no rest from the hungry wolvesthat beset him with cries, resembling beasts of prey rather than anyhuman multitude. 

Sir Francis heard them, at the same time, with the despair of a man whois struggling for life, and yet knows he is struggling in vain; he knewhis strength was decaying--his immense exertions and the blows he hadreceived, all weakened him, while the number and strength of his foesseemed rather to increase than to diminish. 

Once more he sought the houses, and for a moment he believed himselfsafe, but that was only a momentary deception, for they had traced him. 

He arrived at a garden wall, over which he bounded, and then he rushedinto the house, the door of which stood open, for the noise anddisturbance had awakened most of the inhabitants, who were out in alldirections. 

He took refuge in a small closet on the stairs, but was seen to do so bya girl, who screamed out with fear and fright, "Murder! murder!--the wampyre!--the wampyre!" with all her strength, andin the way of screaming that was no little, and then she went off into afit. 

This was signal enough, and the house was at once entered, and beset onall sides by the mob, who came impatient of obtaining their victim whohad so often baffled them. 

"There he is--there he is, " said the girl, who came to as soon as otherpeople came up. 

"Where?--where?"

"In that closet, " she said, pointing to it with her finger. "I see'd himgo in the way above. "

Sir Francis, finding himself betrayed, immediately came out of thecloset, just as two or three were advancing to open it, and dealt sohard a blow on the head of the first that came near him that he fellwithout a groan, and a second shared the same fate; and then Sir Francisfound himself grappled with, but with a violent effort he relievedhimself and rushed up stairs. 

"Oh! murder--the wampyre! what shall I do--fire--fire!"

These exclamations were uttered in consequence of Varney in his haste toget up stairs, having inadvertently stepped into the girl's lap with onefoot, while he kicked her in the chin with the other, besides scratchingher nose till it bled. 

"After him--stick to him, " shouted the mob, but the girl kicked andsprawled so much they were impeded, till, regardless of her cries, theyran over her and pursued Varney, who was much distressed with theexertions he had made. 

After about a minute's race he turned upon the head of the stair, not somuch with the hope of defending it as of taking some breathing time: butseeing his enemies so close, he drew his sword, and stood panting, butprepared. 

"Never mind his toasting-fork, " said one bulky fellow, and, as he spoke, he rushed on, but the point of the weapon entered his heart and he felldead. 

There was a dreadful execration uttered by those who came up after him, and there was a momentary pause, for none liked to rush on to the bloodysword of Sir Francis Varney, who stood so willing and so capable ofusing it with the most deadly effect. They paused, as well they might, and this pause was the most welcome thing next to life to theunfortunate fugitive, for he was dreadfully distressed and bleeding. 

"On to him boys! He can hardly stand. See how he pants. On to him, Isay--push him hard. "

"He pushes hard, I tell you, " said another. "I felt the point of hissword, as it came through Giles's back. ". 

"I'll try my luck, then, " said another, and he rushed up; but he was metby the sword of Sir Francis, who pierced it through his side, and hefell back with a groan. 

Sir Francis, fearful of stopping any longer to defend that point, appeared desirous of making good his retreat with some little advantage, and he rushed up stairs before they had recovered from the momentaryconsternation into which they had been thrown by the sudden disasterthey had received. 

[Illustration]

But they were quickly after him, and before he, wearied as he was, couldgain the roof, they were up the ladder after him. 

The first man who came through the trap was again set upon by Varney, who made a desperate thrust at him, and it took effect; but the swordsnapped by the handle. 

With an execration, Sir Francis threw the hilt at the head of the nextman he saw; then rushing, with headlong speed, he distanced his pursuersfor some house tops. 

But the row of houses ended at the one he was then at, and he could gono further. What was to be done? The height was by far too great to bejumped; death was certain. A hideous heap of crushed and mangled boneswould be the extent of what would remain of him, and then, perhaps, lifenot extinct for some hours afterwards. 

He turned round; he saw them coming hallooing over the house tops, likea pack of hounds. Sir Francis struck his hands together, and groaned. Helooked round, and perceived some ivy peeping over the coping-stone. Athought struck him, and he instantly ran to the spot and leaned over. 

"Saved--saved!" he exclaimed. 

Then, placing his hand over, he felt for the ivy; then he got over, andhung by the coping-stone, in a perilous position, till he found a spoton which he could rest his foot, and then he grasped the ivy as low downas he could, and thus he lowered himself a short way, till he came towhere the ivy was stronger and more secure to the wall, as the upperpart was very dangerous with his weight attached to it. 

The mob came on, very sure of having Sir Francis Varney in their power, and they did not hurry on so violently, as their position was dangerousat that hour of the night. 

"Easy, boys, easy, " was the cry. "The bird is our own; he can't getaway, that's very certain. "

They, however, came on, and took no time about it hardly; but what wastheir amazement and rage at finding he had disappeared. 

"Where is he?" was the universal inquiry, and "I don't know, " an almostuniversal answer. 

There was a long pause, while they searched around; but they saw novestige of the object of their search. 

"There's no trap door open, " remarked one; "and I don't think he couldhave got in at any one. "

"Perhaps, finding he could not get away, he has taken the desperateexpedient of jumping over, and committing suicide, and so escape thedoom he ought to be subjected to. "

"Probably he has; but then we can run a stake through him and burn himall the same. "

They now approached the extreme verge of the houses, and looked over thesides, but they could see nothing. The moon was up, and there was lightenough to have seen him if he had fallen to the earth, and they werequite sure that he could not have got up after such a fall as he musthave received. 

"We are beaten after all, neighbours. "

"I am not so sure of that, " was the reply. "He may now be hidden about, for he was too far spent to be able to go far; he could not do that, Iam sure. "

"I think not either. "

"Might he not have escaped by means of that ivy, yonder?" said one ofthe men, pointing to the plant, as it climbed over the coping-stones ofthe wall. 

"Yes; it may be possible, " said one; "and yet it is very dangerous, ifnot certain destruction to get over. "

"Oh, yes; there is no possibility of escape that way. Why, it wouldn'tbear a cat, for there are no nails driven into the wall at this height. "

"Never mind, " said another, "we may as well leave no stone unturned, asthe saying is, but at once set about looking out for him. "

The individual who spoke now leant over the coping stone, for somemoments, in silence. He could see nothing, but yet he continued to gazefor some moments. 

"Do you see him?" inquired one. 

"No, " was the answer. 

"Ay, ay, I thought as much, " was the reply. "He might as well have gothold of a corner of the moon, which, I believe, is more likely--a greatdeal more likely. "

"Hold still a moment, " said the man, who was looking over the edge ofthe house. 

"What's the matter now? A gnat flew into your eye?"

"No; but I see him--by Jove, I see him!"

"See who--see who?"

"Varney, the vampyre!" shouted the man. "I see him about half-way downclinging, like a fly, to the wall. Odd zounds! I never saw the likeafore!"

"Hurrah! after him then, boys!"

"Not the same way, if you please. Go yourself, and welcome; but I won'tgo that way. "

"Just as you please, " said the man; "but what's good for the goose isgood for the gander is an old saying, and so is Jack as good as hismaster. "

"So it may be; but cuss me if you ain't a fool if you attempt that!"

The man made no reply, but did as Varney had done before, got over thecoping stone, and then laid hold of the ivy; but, whether his weight washeavier than Varney's, or whether it was that the latter had loosenedthe hold of the ivy or not, but he had no sooner left go of the copingstone than the ivy gave way, and he was precipitated from the height ofabout fifty feet to the earth--a dreadful fall!

There was a pause--no one spoke. The man lay motionless and dead--he haddislocated his neck!

The fall had not, however, been without its effect upon Varney, for theman's heels struck him so forcibly on his head as he fell, that he wasstunned, and let go his hold, and he, too, fell to the earth, but notmany feet. 

He soon recovered himself, and was staggering away, when he was assailedby those above with groans, and curses of all kinds, and then by stones, and tiles, and whatever the mob could lay their hands upon. 

Some of these struck him, and he was cut about in various places, sothat he could hardly stand. 

The hoots and shouts of the mob above had now attracted those below tothe spot where Sir Francis Varney was trying to escape, but he had notgone far before the loud yells of those behind him told him that he wasagain pursued. 

Half dead, and almost wholly spent, unarmed, and defenceless, he scarceknew what to do; whether to fly, or to turn round and die as a refugefrom the greater evil of endeavouring to prolong a struggle which seemedhopeless. Instinct, however, urged him on, at all risks, and though hecould not go very far, or fast, yet on he went, with the crowd afterhim. 

"Down with the vampyre!--seize him--hold him--burn him! he must be downpresently, he can't stand!"

This gave them new hopes, and rendered Varney's fate almost certain. They renewed their exertions to overtake him, while he exerted himselfanew, and with surprising agility, considering how he had been employedfor more than two hours. 

There were some trees and hedges now that opposed the progress of bothparties. The height of Sir Francis Varney gave him a great advantage, and, had he been fresh, he might have shown it to advantage in vaultingover the hedges and ditches, which he jumped when obliged, and walkedthrough when he could. 

Every now and then, the party in pursuit, who had been behind him somedistance, now they gained on him; however, they kept, every now andthen, losing sight of him among the trees and shrubs, and he made directfor a small wood, hoping that when there, he should to be able toconceal himself for some time, so as to throw his pursuers off thetrack. 

They were well aware of this, for they increased their speed, and one ortwo swifter of foot than the others, got a-head of them and cried outaloud as they ran, --

"Keep up! keep up! he's making for the wood. "

"He can't stop there long; there are too many of us to beat that coverwithout finding our game. Push, lads, he's our own now, as sure as weknow he's on a-head. "

They did push on, and came in full sight as they saw Sir Francis enterthe wood, with what speed he could make; but he was almost spent. Thiswas a cheering sight to them, and they were pretty certain he would notleave the wood in the state he was then--he must seek concealment. 

However, they were mistaken, for Sir Francis Varney, as soon as he gotinto the wood, plunged into the thickest of it, and then paused to gainbreath. 

"So far safe, " he muttered; "but I have had a narrow escape; they arenot yet done, though, and it will not be safe here long. I must away, and seek shelter and safety elsewhere, if I can;--curses on the houndsthat run yelping over the fields!"

He heard the shouts of his pursuers, and prepared to quit the wood whenhe thought the first had entered it. 

"They will remain here some time in beating about, " he muttered; "thatis the only chance I have had since the pursuit; curse them! I sayagain. I may now get free; this delay must save my life, but nothingelse will. "

He moved away, and, at a slow and lazy pace, left the wood, and thenmade his way across some fields, towards some cottages, that lay on theleft. 

The moon yet shone on the fields; he could hear the shouts of the mob, as various parties went through the wood from one covert to another, andyet unable to find him. 

Then came a great shout upon his ears, as though they had found out hehad left the wood. This caused him to redouble his speed, and, fearfullest he should be seen in the moonlight, he leaped over the first fencethat he came to, with almost the last effort he could make, and thenstaggered in at an open door--through a passage--into a front parlour, and there fell, faint, and utterly spent and speechless, at the feet ofFlora Bannerworth. 

CHAPTER LXXXVIII. 

THE RECEPTION OF THE VAMPYRE BY FLORA. --VARNEY SUBDUED. 

[Illustration]

We must say that the irruption into the house of the Bannerworths by SirFrancis Varney, was certainly unpremeditated by him, for he knew notinto whose house he had thus suddenly rushed for refuge from thenumerous foes who were pursuing him with such vengeful ire. It was astrange and singular incident, and one well calculated to cause the mindto pause before it passed it by, and consider the means to an end whichare sometimes as wide of the mark, as it is in nature possible to be. 

But truth is stronger than fiction by far, and the end of it was, that, pressed on all sides by danger, bleeding, faint, and exhausted, herushed into the first house he came to, and thus placed himself in thevery house of those whom he had brought to such a state of misfortune. 

Flora Bannerworth was seated at some embroidery, to pass away an hour orso, and thus get over the tedium of time; she was not thinking, either, upon the unhappy past; some trifling object or other engaged herattention. But what was her anguish when she saw a man staggering intothe room bleeding, and bearing the marks of a bloody contest, andsinking at her feet. 

Her astonishment was far greater yet, when she recognised that man to beSir Francis Varney. 

"Save me!--save me! Miss Bannerworth, save me!--only you can save mefrom the ruthless multitude which follows, crying aloud for my blood. "

As he spoke, he sank down speechless. Flora was so much amazed, not tosay terrified, that she knew not what to do. She saw Sir Francis asuppliant at her feet, a fugitive from his enemies, who would show himno mercy--she saw all this at a moment's glance; and yet she had notrecovered her speech and presence of mind enough to enable her to makeany reply to him. 

"Save me! Miss Flora Bannerworth, save me!" he again said, raisinghimself on his hands. "I am beset, hunted like a wild beast--they seekmy life--they have pursued me from one spot to another, and I haveunwittingly intruded upon you. You will save me: I am sure your kindnessand goodness of heart will never permit me to be turned out among such acrew of blood-thirsty butchers as those who pursue me are. "

"Rise, Sir Francis Varney, " said Flora, after a moment's hesitation; "insuch an extremity as that which you are in, it would be inhuman indeedto thrust you out among your enemies. "

"Oh! it would, " said Varney. "I had thought, until now, I could havefaced such a mob, until I was in this extremity; and then, disarmed andthrown down, bruised, beaten, and incapable of stemming such a torrent, I fled from one place to another, till hunted from each, and theninstinct alone urged me to greater exertion than before, and here Iam--this is now my last and only hope. "

"Rise, Sir Francis. "

"You will not let me be torn out and slaughtered like an ox. I am sureyou will not. "

"Sir Francis, we are incapable of such conduct; you have sought refugehere, and shall find it as far as we are able to afford it to you. "

"And your brother--and--"

"Yes--yes--all who are here will do the same; but here they come tospeak for themselves. "

As she spoke, Mrs. Bannerworth entered, also Charles Holland, who bothstarted on seeing the vampyre present, Sir Francis Varney, who was tooweak to rise without assistance. 

"Sir Francis Varney, " said Flora, speaking to them as they entered, "hassought refuge here; his life is in peril, and he has no other hope left;you will, I am sure, do what can be done for him. "

"Mr. Holland, " said Sir Francis, "I am, as you may see by my condition, a fugitive, and have been beaten almost to death; instinct alone urgedme on to save my life, and I, unknowingly, came in here. "

"Rise, Sir Francis, " said Charles Holland; "I am not one who would feelany pleasure in seeing you become the victim of any brutal mob. I amsure there are none amongst us who would willingly do so. You havetrusted to those who will not betray you. "

"Thank you, " said Sir Francis, faintly. "I thank you; your conduct isnoble, and Miss Bannerworth's especially so. "

"Are you much hurt, Sir Francis?" inquired Charles. 

"I am much hurt, but not seriously or dangerously; but I am weak andexhausted. "

"Let me assist you to rise, " said Charles Holland. 

"Thank you, " said Sir Francis, as he accepted of the assistance, andwhen he stood up, he found how incapable he really was, for a childmight have grappled with him. 

"I have been sore beset, Mrs. Bannerworth, " he said, endeavouring to bowto that lady; "and I have suffered much ill-usage. I am not in such aplight as I could wish to be seen in by ladies; but my reasons forcoming will be an excuse for my appearance in such disorder. "

"We will not say anything about that, " said Charles Holland; "under thecircumstances, it could not be otherwise. "

"It could not, " said Sir Francis, as he took the chair Miss FloraBannerworth placed for him. 

"I will not ask you for any explanation as to how this came about; butyou need some restorative and rest. "

"I think I suffer more from exhaustion than anything else. The bruises Ihave, of course, are not dangerous. "

"Can you step aside a few moments?" said Mrs. Bannerworth. "I will showyou where you can remove some of those stains, and make yourself morecomfortable. "

"Thank you, madam--thank you. It will be most welcome to me, I assureyou. "

Sir Francis rose up, and, with the aid of Charles Holland, he walked tothe next room, where he washed himself, and arranged his dress as wellat it would admit of its being done. 

"Mr. Holland, " he said, "I cannot tell you how grateful I feel for this. I have been hunted from the house where you saw me. From what sourcethey learned my abode--my place of concealment--I know not; but theyfound me out. "

"I need hardly say, Sir Francis, that it could not have occurred throughme, " said Charles Holland. 

"My young friend, " said Sir Francis, "I am quite sure you were not; and, moreover, I never, for one moment, suspected you. No, no; someaccidental circumstance alone has been the cause. I have been verycautious--I may say extremely so--but at the same time, living, as Ihave, surrounded by enemies on all sides, it is not to be wondered atthat I should be seen by some one, and thus traced to my lair, whitherthey followed me at their leisure. "

"They have been but too troublesome in this matter. When they become alittle reasonable, it will be a great miracle; for, when their passionsand fears are excited, there is no end to the extremes they willperpetrate. "

"It is so, " said Varney, "as the history of these last few days amplytestifies to me. I could never have credited the extent to which popularexcitement could be carried, and the results it was likely to produce. "

"It is an engine of very difficult control, " pursued Charles Holland;"but what will raise it will not allay it, but add fuel to the fire thatburns so fiercely already. "

"True enough, " said Sir Francis. 

"If you have done, will you again step this way?"

Sir Francis Varney followed Charles Holland into the sitting-room, andsat down with them, and before him was spread a light supper, with somegood wine. 

"Eat, Sir Francis, " said Mrs. Bannerworth. "Such a state as that inwhich you are, must, of necessity, produce great exhaustion, and youmust require food and drink. "

Sir Francis bowed as well as he was able, and even then, sore andbruised as he was, fugitive as he had been, he could not forget hiscourtesy; but it was not without an effort. His equanimity was, however, much disturbed, by finding himself in the midst of the Bannerworths. 

"I owe you a relation, " he said, "of what occurred to drive me from myplace of concealment. "

"We should like to hear it, if you are not too far fatigued to relateit, " said Charles. 

"I will. I was sitting at the top of that house in which I sought tohide myself, when I heard sounds come that were of a very suspiciousnature; but did not believe that it could happen that they haddiscovered my lurking-place; far from it; though, of late, I had beenhabitually cautious and suspicious, yet I thought I was safe, till Iheard the noise of a multitude coming towards me. I could not bemistaken in it, for the sounds are so peculiar that they are likenothing else. I heard them coming. 

"I moved not; and when they surrounded the house as far as waspracticable, they gave an immense shout, and made the welkin ring withthe sound. "

"I heard a confused noise at a distance, " remarked Flora; "but I had noidea that anything serious was contemplated. I imagined it was somefestival among some trade, or portion of the townspeople, who wereshouting from joy. "

"Oh, dear no, " said Sir Francis; "but I am not surprised at the mistake, because there are such occurrences occasionally; but whenever the mobgained any advantage upon me they shouted, and when I was able to opposethem with effect, they groaned at me most horribly. "

"The deuce, " said Charles; "the sound, suppose, serves to express theirfeelings, and to encourage each other. "

"Something of the sort, I dare say, " said Varney: "but at length, afterdefending the house with all the desperation that despair imparted tome, I was compelled to fly from floor to floor, until I had reached theroof; there they followed me, and I was compelled again to fly. Houseafter house they followed me to, until I could go no farther, " saidVarney. 

"How did you escape?"

"Fortunately I saw some ivy growing and creeping over the coping-stones, and by grasping that I got over the side, and so let myself down bydegrees, as well as I was able. "

"Good heavens! what a dreadful situation, " exclaimed Flora; "it isreally horrible!"

"I could not do it again, under, I think, any circumstances. "

"Not the same?" said Mrs. Bannerworth. 

"I really doubt if I could, " said Varney. "The truth is, the excitementof the moment was great, and I at that moment thought of nothing butgetting away. 

"The same circumstances, the same fear of death, could hardly beproduced in me again, and I am unable to account for the phenomenon onthis occasion. "

"Your escape was very narrow indeed, " said Flora; "it makes me shudderto think of the dangers you have gone through; it is really terrible tothink of it. "

"You, " said Sir Francis, "are young and susceptible, and generous inyour disposition, You can feel for me, and do; but how little I couldhave expected it, it is impossible to say; but your sympathy sinks intomy mind and causes such emotions as never can be erased from my soul. 

"But to proceed. You may guess how dreadful was my position, by the factthat the first man who attempted to get over tore the ivy away and fell, striking me in his fall; he was killed, and I thrown down and stunned. Ithen made for the wood, closely pursued and got into it; then I baffledthem: they searched the wood, and I went through it. I then ran acrossthe country to these houses here; I got over the fence, and in at theback door. "

"Did they see you come?" inquired Charles Holland. 

"I cannot say, but I think that they did not; I heard them give a loudshout more than once when on this side of the wood. "

"You did? How far from here were you when you heard the shouts?"inquired Mrs. Bannerworth. 

"I was close here; and, as I jumped over the fence, I heard them shoutagain; but I think they cannot see so far; the night was moonlight, tobe sure, but that is all; the shadow of the hedge, and the distancetogether, would make it, if not impossible, at least very improbable. "

"That is very likely, " said Mrs. Bannerworth. 

"In that case, " said Charles Holland, "you are safe here; for none willsuspect your being concealed here. "

"It is the last place I should myself have thought of, " said Varney;"and I may say the last place I would knowingly have come to; but had Ibefore known enough of you, I should have been well assured of yourgenerosity, and have freely come to claim your aid and shelter, whichaccident has so strangely brought me to be a candidate for, and which youhave so kindly awarded me. "

"The night is wearing away, " said Flora, "and Sir Francis is doubtlessfatigued to an excess; sleep, I dare say, will be most welcome to him. "

"It will indeed, Miss Bannerworth, " said Varney; "but I can do thatunder any circumstances; do not let me put you to any inconvenience; achair, and at any hour, will serve me for sleep. "

"We cannot do for you what we would wish, " said Flora, looking at hermother; "but something better than that, at all events, we can and willprovide for you. "

"I know not how to thank you, " said Sir Francis Varney; "I assure you, of late I have not been luxuriously lodged, and the less trouble I giveyou the greater I shall esteem the favour. "

The hour was late, and Sir Francis Varney, before another half hour hadelapsed, was consigned to his own reflections, in a small but neat room, there to repose his bruised and battered carcass, and court therefreshing influence of sleep. 

His reflections were, for nearly an hour, of the most contradictorycharacter; some one passion was trying to overcome the other; but heseemed quite subdued. 

"I could not have expected this, " he muttered; "Flora Bannerworth hasthe soul of a heroine. I deserved not such a reception from them; andyet, in my hour of utmost need, they have received me like a favouredfriend; and yet all their misfortunes have taken their origin from me; Iam the cause of all. "

Filled with these thoughts, he fell asleep; he slept till morning broke. He was not disturbed; it seemed as though the influence of sleep wassweeter far there, in the cottage of the Bannerworths, than ever he hadbefore received. 

It was late on that morning before Sir Francis rose, and then onlythrough hearing the family about, and, having performed his toilet, sofar as circumstances permitted, he descended, and entered thefront-parlour, the room he had been in the night before. 

Flora Bannerworth was already there; indeed, breakfast was waiting theappearance of Sir Francis Varney. 

"Good morning, Miss Bannerworth, " said Sir Francis, bowing with hisusual dignified manner, but in the kindest and sincerest way he was ableto assume. 

"Good morning, Sir Francis, " said Flora, rising to receive him; and shecould not avoid looking at him as he entered the room. "I hope you havehad a pleasant night?"

"It has been the best night's rest I have had for some time, MissBannerworth. I assure you I have to express my gratitude to you for somuch kindness. I have slept well, and soundly. "

"I am glad to hear it. "

"I think yet I shall escape the search of these people who have huntedme from so many places. "

"I hope you may, indeed, Sir Francis. "

"You, Miss Bannerworth! and do you hope I may escape the vengeance ofthese people--the populace?"

"I do, Sir Francis, most sincerely hope so. Why should I wish evil toyou, especially at their hands?"

Sir Francis did not speak for a minute or two, and then he said, turningfull upon Flora--

"I don't know why, Miss Bannerworth, that I should think so, but perhapsit is because there are peculiar circumstances connected with myself, that have made me feel conscious that I have not deserved so muchgoodness at your hands. "

"You have not deserved any evil. Sir Francis, we could not do that if itwere in our power; we would do you a service at any time. "

"You have done so, Miss Bannerworth--the greatest that can be performed. You have saved my life. "

At that moment Charles Holland entered, and Sir Francis bowed, as hesaid, --

"I hope you, Mr. Holland, have slept as well, and passed as good a nightas I have passed?"

"I am glad you, at least, have passed a quiet one, " said CharlesHolland; "you, I dare say, feel all the better for it? How do you feelyourself? Are you much hurt?"

"Not at all, not at all, " said Sir Francis Varney. "Only a few bruises, and so forth, some of which, as you may perceive, do not add to one'spersonal appearance. A week or two's quiet would rid me of them. At allevents, I would it may do the same with my enemies. "

"I wish they were as easily gotten rid of myself, " said Charles; "but asthat cannot be, we must endeavour to baffle them in the best way wemay. "

"I owe a debt to you I shall never be able to repay; but where there isa will, they say there is a way; and if the old saying be good foranything, I need not despair, though the way is by no means apparent atpresent. "

"Time is the magician, " said Flora, "whose wand changes all things--theyoung to the aged, and the aged to nothing. "

"Certainly, that is true, " said Varney, "and many such changes have Iseen. My mind is stored with such events; but this is sadness, and Ihave cause to rejoice. "

* * * *

The breakfast was passed off in pleasing conversation, and Varney foundhimself much at home with the Bannerworths, whose calm and even tenourwas quite new to him. 

He could not but admit the charms of such a life as that led by theBannerworths; but what it must have been when they were supplied byample means, with nothing to prey upon their minds, and no fearfulmystery to hang on and weigh down their spirits, he could scarcelyimagine. 

Thy were amiable, accomplished; they were in the same mind at all times, and nothing seemed to ruffle them; and when night came, he could not butacknowledge to himself that he had never formed half the opinion of themthey were deserving of. 

Of course during that day he was compelled to lie close, so as not to beseen by any one, save the family. He sat in a small room, which wasoverlooked by no other in the neighbourhood, and he remained quiet, sometimes conversing, and sometimes reading, but at the same time everattentive to the least sound that appeared at all of a character toindicate the approach of persons for any purpose whatever. 

At supper time he spoke to Flora and to Charles Holland, saying, --

"There are certain matters connected with myself--I may say with younow--sure all that has happened will make it so--of which you would beglad to hear some thing. "

"You mean upon the same subject upon which I had some conversation withyou a day or two back?"

"Yes, the same. Allow me one week, and you shall know all. I will thenrelate to you that which you so much desire to know--one week, and allshall be told. "

"Well, " said Charles Holland, "this has not been exacted from you as theprice of your safety, but you can choose your own time, of course; whatyou promise is most desired, for it will render those happy who now aremuch worse than they were before these occurrences took place. "

"I am aware of all that; grant me but one week, and then you shall bemade acquainted with all. "

"I am satisfied, Sir Francis, " said Flora; "but while here under ourroof, we should never have asked you a question. "

"Of this, Miss Bannerworth, the little I have seen of you assures me youwould not do so; however, I am the more inclined to make it--I am underso deep an obligation to you all, that I can never repay it. "

 * * * * *

Sir Francis Varney retired to rest that night--his promise to theBannerworths filled his mind with many reflections--the insecurity ofhis own position, and the frail tenure which he even held in the handsof those whom he had most injured. 

This produced a series of reflections of a grave and melancholy nature, and he sat by his window, watching the progress of the clouds, as theyappeared to chase each other over the face of the scene--now casting ashade over the earth, and then banishing the shadows, and throwing agentle light over the earth's surface, which was again chased away, andshadows again fell upon the scene below. 

How long he had sat there in melancholy musing he knew not; but suddenlyhe was aroused from his dreams by a voice that shook the skies, andcaused him to start to his feet. 

"Hurrah!--hurrah!--hurrah!" shouted the mob, which had silentlycollected around the cottage of the Bannerworths. 

"Curses!" muttered Sir Francis, as he again sank in his chair, andstruck his head with his hand. "I am hunted to death--they will notleave me until my body has graced a cross-road. "

"Hurrah!--down with the vampyre--pull him out!"

Then came an instant knocking at the doors, and the people on theoutside made so great a din, that it seemed as though they contemplatedknocking the house down at once, without warning the inmates that theywaited there. 

There was a cessation for about a minute, when one of the familyhastened to the door, and inquired what was wanted. 

"Varney, the vampyre, " was the reply. 

"You must seek him elsewhere. "

"We will search this place before we go further, " replied a man. 

"But he is not here. "

"We have reason to believe otherwise. Open the door, and let us in--noone shall be hurt, or one single object in the house; but we must comein, and search for the vampyre. "

"Come to-morrow, then. "

"That will not do, " said the voice; "open, or we force our way inwithout more notice. "

At the same a tremendous blow was bestowed upon the door, and then muchforce was used to thrust it in. A consultation was suddenly held amongthe inmates, as to what was to be done, but no one could advise, andeach was well aware of the utter impossibility of keeping the mob out. 

"I do not see what is to become of me, " said Sir Francis Varney, suddenly appearing before them. "You must let them in; there is nochance of keeping them off, neither can you conceal me. You will have noplace, save one, that will be sacred from their profanation. "

"And which is that?"

"Flora's own room. "

All started at the thought that Flora's chamber could in any way beprofaned by any such presence as Sir Francis Varney's. 

However, the doors below were suddenly burst open, amid loud cries fromthe populace, who rushed in in great numbers, and began to search thelower rooms, immediately. 

"All is lost!" said Sir Francis Varney, as he dashed away and rushed tothe chamber of Flora, who, alarmed at the sounds that were now fillingthe house, stood listening to them. 

"Miss Bannerworth--" began Varney. 

"Sir Francis!"

"Yes, it is indeed I, Miss Bannerworth; hear me, for one moment. "

"What is the matter?"

"I am again in peril--in more imminent peril than before; my life is notworth a minute's purchase, unless you save me. You, and you alone, cannow save me. Oh! Miss Bannerworth, if ever pity touched your heart, saveme from those only whom I now fear. I could meet death in any shape butthat in which they will inflict it upon me. Hear their execrationsbelow!"

"Death to the vampyre! death to Varney! burn him! run a stake throughhis body!"

[Illustration]

"What can I do, Sir Francis?"

"Admit me to your chamber. "

"Sir Francis, are you aware of what you are saying?"

"I am well. It is a request which you would justly scorn to reply to, but now my life--recollect you have saved me once--my life, --do not nowthrow away the boon you have so kindly bestowed. Save me, MissBannerworth. "

"It is not possible. I--"

"Nay, Miss Bannerworth, do you imagine this is a time for ceremony, orthe observances of polished life! On my honour, you run no risk ofcensure. "

"Where is Varney? Where is the vampyre? He ain't far off. "

"Hear--hear them, Miss Bannerworth. They are now at the foot of thestairs. Not a moment to lose. One minute more, and I am in the hands ofa crew that has no mercy. "

"Hurrah! upstairs! He's not below. Upstairs, neighbours, we shall havehim yet!"

These words sounded on the stairs: half-a-dozen more steps, and Varneywould be seen. It was a miracle he was not heard begging for his life. 

Varney cast a look of despair at the stairhead and felt for his sword, but it was not there, he had lost it. He struck his head with hisclenched hand, and was about to rush upon his foes, when he heard thelock turn; he looked, and saw the door opened gently, and Flora stoodthere; he passed in, and sank cowering into a chair, at the other end ofthe room, behind some curtains. 

The door was scarcely shut ere some tried to force it, and then a loudknocking came at the door. 

"Open! open! we want Varney, the vampyre. Open! or we will burst itopen. "

Flora did open it, but stood resolutely in the opening, and held up herhand to impose silence. 

"Are you men, that you can come thus to force yourselves upon theprivacy of a female? Is there nothing in the town or house, that youmust intrude in numbers into a private apartment? Is no place sacredfrom you?"

"But, ma'am--miss--we only want Varney, the vampyre. "

"And can you find him nowhere but in a female's bedroom? Shame on you!shame on you! Have you no sisters, wives, or mothers, that you actthus?"

"He's not there, you may be sure of that, Jack, " said a gruff voice. "Let the lady be in quiet; she's had quite enough trouble with him tosicken her of a vampyre. You may be sure that's the last place to findhim in. "

With this they all turned away, and Flora shut the door and locked itupon them, and Varney was safe. 

"You have saved me, " said Varney. 

"Hush!" said Flora. "Speak not; there maybe some one listening. "

Sir Francis Varney stood in the attitude of one listening most anxiouslyto catch some sounds; the moon fell across his face, and gave it aghastly hue, that, added to his natural paleness and wounds, gave him analmost unearthly aspect. 

The sounds grew more and more distant; the shouts and noise of mentraversing the apartments subsided, and gradually the place becamerestored to its original silence. The mob, after having searched everyother part of the house, and not finding the object of their search, they concluded that he was not there, but must have made his escapebefore. 

 * * * * *

This most desperate peril of Sir Francis Varney seemed to have moreeffect upon him than anything that had occurred during his most strangeand most eventful career. 

When he was assured that the riotous mob that had been so intent uponhis destruction was gone, and that he might emerge from his place ofconcealment, he did so with an appearance of such utter exhaustion thatthe Bannerworth family could not but look upon him as a being who wasnear his end. 

At any time his countenance, as we long have had occasion to remark, wasa strange and unearthly looking one; but when we come to superadd to thestrangeness of his ordinary appearance the traces of deep mentalemotion, we may well say that Varney's appearance was positively of themost alarming character. 

When he was seated in the ordinary sitting apartment of theBannerworths, he drew a long sighing breath, and placing his hand uponhis heart, he said, in a faint tone of voice, --

"It beats now laboriously, but it will soon cease its pulsations forever. "

These words sounded absolutely prophetic, there was about them such asolemn aspect, and he looked at the same time that he uttered them somuch like one whose mortal race was run, and who was now a candidate forthe grave. 

"Do not speak so despairingly, " said Charles Holland; "remember, that ifyour life has been one of errors hitherto, how short a space of time maysuffice to redeem some of them at least, and the communication to mewhich you have not yet completed may to some extent have such aneffect. "

"No, no. It may contribute to an act of justice, but it can do no goodto me. And yet do not suppose that because such is my impression that Imean to hesitate in finishing to you that communication. "

"I rejoice to hear you say so, and if you would, now that you must beaware of what good feelings towards you we are all animated with, removethe bar of secrecy from the communication, I should esteem it a greatfavour. "

Varney appeared to be considering for a few moments, and then he said, --

"Well, well. Let the secrecy no longer exist. Have it removed at once. Iwill no longer seek to maintain it. Tell all, Charles Holland--tellall. "

Thus empowered by the mysterious being, Charles Holland related brieflywhat Varney had already told him, and then concluded by saying, --

"That is all that I have myself as yet been made aware of, and I nowcall upon Sir Francis Varney to finish his narration. "

"I am weak, " said Varney, "and scarcely equal to the task; but yet Iwill not shrink from the promise that I have made. You have been thepreservers of my life, and more particularly to you, Flora Bannerworth, am I indebted for an existence, which otherwise must have beensacrificed upon the altar of superstition. "

"But you will recollect, Master Varney, " said the admiral, who had satlooking on for some time in silent wonder, "you must recollect, MasterVarney, that the people are, after all, not so much to blame for theirsuperstition, because, whether you are a vampyre or not, and I don'tpretend to come to a positive opinion now, you took good care topersuade them you were. "

"I did, " said Varney, with a shudder; "but why did I?"

"Well, you know best. "

"It was, then, because I did believe, and do believe, that there issomething more than natural about my strangely protracted existence; butwe will waive that point, and, before my failing strength, for itappears to me to be failing, completely prevents me from doing so, letme relate to you the continued particulars of the circumstances thatmade me what I am. "

Flora Bannerworth, although she had heard before from the lips ofCharles Holland the to her dreadful fact, that her father, in additionto having laid violent hands upon his own life, was a murderer, now thatthat fearful circumstance was related more publicly, felt a greater pangthan she had done when it was whispered to her in the accents of pureaffection, and softened down by a gentleness of tone, which CharlesHolland's natural delicacy would not allow him to use even to her whomhe loved so well in the presence of others. 

She let her beautiful face be hidden by her hands, and she wept as shelistened to the sad detail. 

Varney looked inquiringly in the countenance of Charles Holland, because, having given him leave to make Flora acquainted with thecircumstance, he was rather surprised at the amount of emotion which itproduced in her. 

Charles Holland answered the appealing look by saying, --

"Flora is already aware of the facts, but it naturally affects her muchto hear them now repeated in the presence of others, and those too, towards whom she cannot feel--"

What Charles Holland was going to say was abruptly stopped short by theadmiral, who interposed, exclaiming, --

"Why, what do you mean, you son of a sea cook? The presence of who doyou mean? Do you mean to say that I don't feel for Miss Flora, bless herheart! quite as much as a white-faced looking swab like you? Why, Ishall begin to think you are only fit for a marine. "

"Nay, uncle, now do not put yourself out of temper. You must be wellaware that I could not mean anything disrespectful to you. You shouldnot suppose such a state of things possible; and although, perhaps, Idid not express myself so felicitously as I might, yet what I intendedto say, was--"

"Oh, bother what you intended to say. You go on, Mr. Vampyre, with yourstory. I want to know what became of it all; just you get on as quick asyou can, and let us know what you did after the man was murdered. "

"When the dreadful deed was committed, " said Varney, "and our victim layweltering in his blood, and had breathed his last, we stood like men whofor the first time were awakened to the frightful consequences of whatthey had done. 

"I saw by the dim light that hovered round us a great change come overthe countenance of Marmaduke Bannerworth, and he shook in every limb. 

"This soon passed away, however, and the powerful and urgent necessitywhich arose of avoiding the consequences of the deed that we had done, restored us to ourselves. We stooped and took from the body theill-gotten gains of the gambler. They amounted to an immense sum, and Isaid to Marmaduke Bannerworth, --

"'Take you the whole of this money and proceed to your own home with it, where you will be least suspected. Hide it in some place of greatsecrecy, and to-morrow I will call upon you, when we will divide it, andwill consider of some means of safely exchanging the notes for gold. '

"He agreed to this, and placed the money in his pocket, after which itbecame necessary that we should dispose of the body, which, if we didnot quickly remove, must in a few hours be discovered, and so, perchance, accompanied by other criminating circumstances, become afrightful evidence against us, and entail upon us all those consequencesof the deed which we were so truly anxious to escape from. 

"It is ever the worst part of the murderer's task, that after he hasstruck the blow that has deprived his victim of existence, it becomeshis frightful duty to secrete the corpse, which, with its dead eyes, ever seems to be glaring upon him such a world of reproach. 

"That it is which should make people pause ere they dipped their handsin the blood of others, and that it is which becomes the firstretribution that the murderer has to endure for the deep crime that hehas committed. 

"We tore two stakes from a hedge, and with their assistance we contrivedto dig a very superficial hole, such a hole as was only sufficient, byplacing a thin coating of earth over it, to conceal the body of themurdered man. 

"And then came the loathsome task of dragging him into it--a task fullof horror, and from which we shrunk aghast; but it had to be done, and, therefore, we stooped, and grasping the clothes as best we might, wedragged the body into the chasm we had prepared for its reception. Gladwere we then to be enabled to throw the earth upon it and to stamp uponit with such vehemence as might well be supposed to actuate men deeplyanxious to put out of sight some dangerous and loathsome object. 

"When we had completed this, and likewise gathered handsfull of dustfrom the road, and dry leaves, and such other matter, to sprinkle uponthe grave, so as to give the earth an appearance of not having beendisturbed, we looked at each other and breathed from our toil. 

"Then, and not till then, was it that we remembered that among otherthings which the gambler had won of Marmaduke were the deeds belongingto the Dearbrook property. "

"The Dearbrook property!" exclaimed Henry Bannerworth; "I know thatthere was a small estate going by that name, which belonged to ourfamily, but I always understood that long ago my father had parted withit. "

"Yes; it was mortgaged for a small sum--a sum not a fourth part of itsvalue--and it had been redeemed by Marmaduke Bannerworth, not for thepurpose of keeping it, but in order that he might sell it outright, andso partially remedy his exhausted finances. "

"I was not aware of that, " returned Henry. 

"Doubtless you were not, for of late--I mean for the twelve months or sopreceding your father's death--you know he was much estranged from allthe family, so that you none of you knew much of what he was doing, except that he was carrying on a very wild and reckless career, such aswas sure to end in dishonour and poverty; but I tell you he had thetitle deeds of the Dearbrook property, and that they were only got fromhim, along with everything else of value that he possessed, at thegaming-table, by the man who paid such a fearful penalty for hissuccess. 

"It was not until after the body was completely buried, and we hadcompleted all our precautions for more effectually hiding it fromobservation, that we recollected the fact of those important papersbeing in his possession. It was Marmaduke Bannerworth who firstremembered it, and he exclaimed, --

"'By Heaven, we have buried the title deeds of the property, and weshall have again to exhume the corpse for the purpose of procuringthem. '

"Now those deeds were nothing to me, and repugnant as I had felt fromthe first to having anything whatever to do with the dead body, it wasnot likely that I would again drag it from the earth for such an object. 

"'Marmaduke Bannerworth, ' I said, 'you can do what you please, and takethe consequences of what you do, but I will not again, if I can help it, look upon the face of that corpse. It is too fearful a sight tocontemplate again. You have a large sum of money, and what need you carenow for the title deeds of a property comparatively insignificant?'

"'Well, well, ' he said, 'I will not, at the present time, disturb theremains; I will wait to see if anything should arise from the fact ofthe murder; if it should turn out that no suspicion of any kind isexcited, but that all is still and quiet, I can then take measures toexhume the corpse, and recover those papers, which certainly areimportant. '

"By this time the morning was creeping on apace, and we thought itprudent to leave the spot. We stood at the end of the lane for a fewmoments conversing, and those moments were the last in which I ever sawMarmaduke Bannerworth. "

"Answer me a question, " said Henry. 

"I will; ask me what you please, I will answer it. "

"Was it you that called at Bannerworth Hall, after my father'smelancholy death, and inquired for him?"

"I did; and when I heard of the deed that he had done, I at once left, in order to hold counsel with myself as to what I should do to obtain atleast a portion of the property, one-half of which, it was understood, was to have been mine. I heard what had been the last words used byMarmaduke Bannerworth on the occasion of his death, and they were amplysufficient to let me know what had been done with the money--at allevents, so far as regards the bestowal of it in some secret place; andfrom that moment the idea of, by some means or another, getting theexclusive possession of it, never forsook my mind. 

"I thought over the matter by day and, by night; and with the exceptionof having a knowledge of the actual hiding-place of the money, I couldsee, in the clearest possible manner, how the whole affair had beentransacted. There can be no doubt but that Marmaduke Bannerworth hadreached home safely with the large sum of which he had become possessed, and that he had hidden it securely, which was but an ordinary measure ofprecaution, when we come to consider how the property had been obtained. 

"Then I suspect that, being alone, and left to the gloom of his ownmiserable thoughts, they reverted so painfully to the past that he wascompelled to drink deeply for the purpose of drowning reflection. 

"The natural consequence of this, in his state, was, that partialinsanity supervened, and at a moment when frenzy rose far abovereflection, he must have committed the dreadful act which hurried himinstantaneously to eternity. "

"Yes, " said Henry; "it must have been so; you have guessed truly. He didon that occasion drink an immense quantity of wine; but instead ofstilling the pangs of remorse it must have increased them, and placedhim in such a frenzied condition of intellect, that he found itimpossible to withstand the impulse of it, unless by the terrific actwhich ended his existence. "

"Yes, and which at once crushed all my expectations of the large fortunewhich was to have been mine; for even the one-half of the sum which hadbeen taken from the gamester's pocket would have been sufficient to haveenabled me to live for the future in affluence. 

"I became perfectly maddened at the idea that so large a sum had passedout of my hands. I constantly hovered about Bannerworth Hall, hoping andexpecting that something might arise which would enable me to getadmittance to it, and make an active search through its recesses for thehidden treasure. 

"All my exertions were in vain. I could hit upon no scheme whatever; andat length, wearied and exhausted, I was compelled to proceed to Londonfor the sake of a subsistence. It is only in that great metropolis thatsuch persons as myself, destitute of real resources, but infinitelyreckless as regards the means by which they acquire a subsistence, canhope to do so. Once again, therefore, I plunged into the vortex ofLondon life, and proceeded, heedless of the criminality of what I wasabout, to cater for myself by robbery, or, indeed, in any manner whichpresented a prospect of success. It was during this career of mine, thatI became associated with some of the most desperate characters of thetime; and the offences we committed were of that daring character thatit could not be wondered at eventually so formidable a gang ofdesperadoes must be by force broken up. 

"It so occurred, but unknown to us, that the police resolved upon makingone of the most vigorous efforts to put an end to the affair, and inconsequence a watch was set upon every one of our movements. 

"The result of this was, as might have been expected, our completedispersion, and the arrest of some our members, and among them myself. 

"I knew my fate almost from the first. Our depredations had created sucha sensation, that the legislature, even, had made it a matter ofimportance that we should be suppressed, and it was an understood thingamong the judges, that the severest penalties of the law should beinflicted upon any one of the gang who might be apprehended andconvicted. 

"My trial scarcely occupied an hour, and then I was convicted andsentenced to execution, with an intimation from the judge that it wouldbe perfectly absurd of me to dream, for one moment, of a remission ofthat sentence. 

"In this state of affairs, and seeing nothing but death before me, Igave myself up to despair, and narrowly missed cheating the hangman ofhis victim. 

"More dead than alive, I was, however, dragged out to be judiciallymurdered, and I shall never forget the crowd of frightful sensationsthat came across my mind upon that terrific occasion. 

"It seemed as if my fate had then reached its climax, and I have reallybut a dim recollection of the terrible scene. 

"I remember something of the confused murmur arising from an immensethrong of persons. I remember looking about me, and seeing nothing butwhat appeared to me an immense sea of human heads, and then suddenly Iheard a loud roar of execration burst from the multitude. 

"I shrunk back terrified, and it did, indeed, seem to me a brutal thingthus to roar and shout at a man who was brought out to die. I soon, however, found that the mob who came to see such a spectacle was not sodebased as I imagined, but that it was at the hangman, who had suddenlymade his appearance on the scaffold, at whom they raised that fearfulyell. 

"Some one--I think it was one of the sheriffs--must have noticed that Iwas labouring under the impression that the cry from the mob waslevelled at me, for he spoke, saying, --

"'It is at the hangman they shout, ' and he indicated with his fingerthat public functionary. In my mind's eye I think I see him now, and Iam certain that I shall never forget the expression of his face. It wasperfectly fearful; and afterwards, when I learned who and what he was, Iwas not surprised that he should feel so acutely the painfully degradingoffice which he had to perform. 

"The fatal rope was in a few minutes adjusted to my neck. I felt itspressure, and I heard the confused sounds of the monotonous voice of theclergyman, as he muttered some prayers, that I must confess sounded tome at the time like a mockery of human suffering. 

"Then suddenly there was a loud shout--I felt the platform give waybeneath my feet--I tried to utter a yell of agony, but could not--itseemed to me as if I was encompassed by fire, and then sensation leftme, and I knew no more. 

 * * * * *

"The next feelings of existence that came over me consisted in afrightful tingling sensation throughout my veins, and I felt myselfmaking vain efforts to scream. All the sensations of a person sufferingfrom a severe attack of nightmare came across me, and I was in such anagony, that I inwardly prayed for death to release me from such a cruelstate of suffering. Then suddenly the power to utter a sound came to me, and I made use of it well, for the piercing shriek I uttered, must havestruck terror into the hearts of all who heard it, since it appalledeven myself. 

"Then I suppose I must have fainted, but when I recovered consciousnessagain, I found myself upon a couch, and a man presenting some stimulusto me in a cup. I could not distinguish objects distinctly, but I heardhim say, 'Drink, and you will be better. '

"I did drink, for a raging thirst consumed me, and then I fell into asound sleep, which, I was afterwards told, lasted nearly twenty-fourhours, and when I recovered from that, I heard again the same voice thathad before spoken to me, asking me how I was. 

"I turned in the direction of the sound, and, as my vision was nowclearer, I could see that it was the hangman, whose face had made uponthe scaffold such an impression upon me--an impression which I thenconsidered my last in this world, but which turned out not to be such bymany a mingled one of pain and pleasure since. 

"It was some time before I could speak, and when I did, it was only in afew muttered words, to ask what had happened, and where I was. 

"'Do you not remember, ' he said, 'that you were hanged?'

"'I do--I do, ' was my reply. 'Is this the region of damned souls?'

"'No; you are still in this world, however strange you may think it. Listen to me, and I will briefly tell you how it is that you have comeback again, as it were, from the very grave, to live and walk aboutamong the living. "

"I listened to him with a strange and rapt attention, and then he toldhow a young and enthusiastic medical man had been anxious to try someexperiments with regard to the restoration of persons apparently dead, and he proceeded to relate how it was that he had given ear to thesolicitations of the man, and had consented to bring my body after itwas hung for him to experiment upon. He related how the doctor had beensuccessful, but how he was so terrified at his own success, that hehastily fled, and had left London, no one knowing whither he had gone. 

"I listened to this with the most profound attention, and then heconcluded, by saying to me, --

"'There can be no doubt but my duty requires of me to give you up againto the offended laws of your country. I will not, however, do that, ifyou will consent to an arrangement that I shall propose to you. '

"I asked him what the arrangement was, and he said that if I wouldsolemnly bind myself to pay to him a certain sum per annum, he wouldkeep my secret, and forsaking his calling as hangman, endeavour to dosomething that should bring with it pleasanter results. I did sosolemnly promise him, and I have kept my word. By one means or another Ihave succeeded in procuring the required amount, and now he is no more. "

"I believe, " cried Henry, "that he has fallen a victim to the blind furyof the populace. "

"You are right, he has so, and accordingly I am relieved from the burdenof those payments; but it matters little, for now I am so near the tombmyself, that, together with all my obligations, I shall soon be beyondthe reach of mortal cavilling. "

"You need not think so, Varney; you must remember that you are atpresent suffering from circumstances, the pressure of which will soonpass away, and then you will resume your wonted habits. "

"What did you do next?" said the admiral. --"Let's know all while you areabout it. "

"I remained at the hangman's house for some time, until all fear ofdiscovery was over, and then he removed me to a place of greatersecurity, providing me from his own resources with the means ofexistence, until I had fully recovered my health, and then he told me toshift for myself. 

"During my confinement though, I had not been idle mentally, for Iconcocted a plan, by which I should be enabled not only to live wellmyself, but to pay to the hangman, whose name was Mortimore, the annualsum I had agreed upon. I need not go into the details of this plan. Ofcourse it was neither an honest nor respectable one, but it succeeded, and I soon found myself in a position to enable me thereby to keep myengagement, as well as to supply me with means of plotting and planningfor my future fortunes. 

"I had never for a moment forgotten that so large a sum of money wassomewhere concealed about Bannerworth Hall, and I still looked forwardto obtaining it by some means or another. 

"It was in this juncture of affairs, that one night I was riding onhorseback through a desolate part of England. The moon was shiningsweetly, as I came to a broad stream of water, across which, about amile further on, I saw that there was a bridge, but being unwilling towaste time by riding up to it, and fancying, by the lazy ripple of thewaters, that the river was not shallow, I plunged my horse boldly intothe stream. 

"When we reached its centre, some sudden indisposition must have seizedthe horse, for instead of swimming on well and gallantly as it had donebefore, it paused for a moment, and then plunged headlong into thetorrent. 

"I could not swim, and so, for a second time, death, with all itsterrors, appeared to be taking possession of me. The waters rolled overmy head, gurgling and hissing in my ears, and then all was past. I knowno more, until I found myself lying upon a bright green meadow, and thefull beams of the moon shining upon me. 

"I was giddy and sick, but I rose, and walked slowly away, each momentgathering fresh strength, and from that time to this, I never discoveredhow I came to be rescued from the water, and lying upon that green bank. It has ever been a mystery to me, and I expect it ever will. 

"Then from that moment the idea that I had a sort of charmed life cameacross me, and I walked about with an impression that such was the case, until I came across a man who said that he was a Hungarian, and who wasfull of strange stories of vampyres. Among other things, he told me thata vampyre could not be drowned, for that the waters would cast him uponits banks, and, if the moonbeams fell upon him, he would be restored tolife. 

"This was precisely my story, and from that moment I believed myself tobe one of those horrible, but charmed beings, doomed to such aprotracted existence. The notion grew upon me day by day, and hour byhour, until it became quite a fixed and strong belief, and I wasdeceiving no one when I played the horrible part that has beenattributed to me. "

"But you don't mean to say that you believe you are a vampyre now?" saidthe admiral. 

"I say nothing, and know not what to think. I am a desperate man, andwhat there is at all human in me, strange to say, all of you whom Isought to injure, have awakened. "

"Heed not that, " said Henry, "but continue your narrative. We haveforgiven everything, and that ought to suffice to quiet your mind uponsuch a subject. "

"I will continue; and, believe me, I will conceal nothing from you. Ilook upon the words I am now uttering as a full, candid, and freeconfession; and, therefore, it shall be complete. 

"The idea struck me that if, by taking advantage of my supposedpreternatural gifts, I could drive you from Bannerworth Hall, I shouldhave it to myself to hunt through at my leisure, and possibly find thetreasure. I had heard from Marmaduke Bannerworth some slight allusion toconcealing the money behind a picture that was in a bed-room called thepanelled chamber. By inquiry, I ascertained that in that bed-room sleptFlora Bannerworth. 

"I had resolved, however, at first to try pacific measures, andaccordingly, as you are well aware, I made various proposals to you topurchase or to rent Bannerworth Hall, the whole of which you rejected;so that I found myself compelled to adopt the original means that hadsuggested themselves to me, and endeavour to terrify you from the house. 

"By prowling about, I made myself familiar with the grounds, and withall the plan of the residence, and then one night made my appearance inFlora's chamber by the window. "

"But how do you account, " said Charles Holland, "for your extraordinarylikeness to the portrait?"

"It is partly natural, for I belong to a collateral branch of thefamily; and it was previously arranged. I had seen the portrait inMarmaduke Bannerworth's time, and I knew some of its peculiarities anddress sufficiently well to imitate them. I calculated upon producing amuch greater effect by such an imitation; and it appears that I was notwrong, for I did produce it to the full. "

"You did, indeed, " said Henry; "and if you did not bring conviction toour minds that you were what you represented yourself to be, you atleast staggered our judgments upon the occasion, and left us in aposition of great doubt and difficulty. "

"I did; I did all that, I know I did; and, by pursuing that line ofconduct, I, at last, I presume, entirely forced you from the house. "

"That you did. "

"Flora fainted when I entered her chamber; and the moment I looked uponher sweet countenance my heart smote me for what I was about; but Isolemnly aver, that my lips never touched her, and that, beyond thefright, she suffered nothing from Varney, the vampyre. "

"And have you succeeded, " said Henry, "in your object now?"

"No; the treasure has yet to be found. Mortimore, the hangman, followedme into the house, guessing my intention, and indulging a hope that hewould succeed in sharing with me its proceeds. But he, as well asmyself, was foiled, and nothing came of the toilsome and anxious searchbut disappointment and bitterness. "

"Then it is supposed that the money is still concealed?"

"I hope so; I hope, as well, that it will be discovered by you andyours; for surely none can have a better right to it than you, who havesuffered so much on its account. "

"And yet, " remarked Henry, "I cannot help thinking it is too securelyhidden from us. The picture has been repeatedly removed from its place, and produced no results; so that I fear we have little to expect fromany further or more protracted research. "

"I think, " said Varney, "that you have everything to expect. The wordsof the dying Marmaduke Bannerworth, you may depend, were not spoken invain; and I have every reason to believe that, sooner or later, youmust, without question, become the possessors of that sum. "

"But ought we rightly to hold it?"

"Who ought more rightly to hold it?" said Varney; "answer me that. "

"That's a sensible enough idea of your's, " said the admiral; "and if youwere twice over a vampyre, I would tell you so. It's a very sensibleidea; I should like to know who has more right to it than those who havehad such a world of trouble about it. "

"Well, well, " said Henry, "we must not dispute, as yet, about a sum ofmoney that may really never come to hand. For my own part, I have littleto hope for in the matter; but, certainly, nothing shall be spared, onmy part, to effect such a thorough search of the Hall as shall certainlybring it to light, if it be in existence. "

"I presume, Sir Francis Varney, " said Charles Holland, "that you havenow completed your narrative?"

"I have. After events are well known to you. And, now, I have but to liedown and die, with the hope of finding that rest and consolation in thetomb which has been denied me hitherto in this world. My life has been astormy one, and full of the results of angry passions. I do hope now, that, for the short time I have to live, I shall know something likeserenity, and die in peace. "

"You may depend, Varney, that, as long as you have an asylum with us, "said the admiral--"and that you may have as long as you like, --you maybe at peace. I consider that you have surrendered at discretion, and, under such circumstances, an enemy always deserves honourable treatment, and always gets it on board such a ship as this. "

"There you go again, " said Jack, "calling the house a ship. "

"What's that to you, if I were to call it a bowsprit? Ain't I yourcaptain, you lubber, and so, sure to be right, while you are wrong, inthe natural order of things? But you go and lay down, Master Varney, andrest yourself, for you seem completely done up. "

Varney did look fearfully exhausted; and, with the assistance of Henryand Charles, he went into another apartment, and laid down upon a couch, showing great symptoms of debility and want of power. 

And now it was a calm; Varney's stay at the cottage of the Bannerworthswas productive of a different mood of mind than ever he had possessedbefore. He looked upon them in a very different manner to what he hadbeen used to. He had, moreover, considerably altered prospects; therecould not be the same hopes and expectations that he once had. He was analtered man. He saw in the Bannerworths those who had saved his life, and who, without doubt, had possessed an opinion, not merely obnoxiousto him, but must have had some fearful misgivings concerning hischaracter, and that, too, of a nature that usually shuts out all hope ofbeing received into any family. 

But, in the hour of his need, when his life was in danger, no one elsewould have done what they had done for him, especially when sorelatively placed. 

Moreover, he had been concealed, when to do so was both dangerous anddifficult; and then it was done by Flora Bannerworth herself. 

Time flew by. The mode of passing time at the cottage was calm andserene. Varney had seldom witnessed anything like it; but, at the sametime, he felt more at ease than ever he had; he was charmed with thesociety of Flora--in fact, with the whole of the little knot ofindividuals who there collected together; from what he saw he wasgratified in their society; and it seemed to alleviate his mentaldisquiet, and the sense he must feel of his own peculiar position. ButVarney became ill. The state of mind and body he had been in for sometime past might be the cause of it. He had been much harassed, andhunted from place to place. There was not a moment in which his life wasnot in danger, and he had, moreover, more than one case, received somebodily injuries, bruises, and contusions of a desperate character; andyet he would take no notice of them, but allow them to get well again, as best they could. 

[Illustration]

His escapes and injuries had made a deep impression upon his mind, andhad no doubt a corresponding effect upon his body, and Varney becamevery ill. 

Flora Bannerworth did all that could be done for one in his painfulposition, and this greatly added to the depths of thought thatoccasionally beset him, and he could scarcely draw one limb after theother. 

He walked from room to room in the twilight, at which time he had moreliberty permitted him than at any other, because there was not the samedanger in his doing so; for, if once seen, there could be no manner ofdoubt but he would have been pursued until he was destroyed, when noother means of escape were at hand; and Varney himself felt that therecould be no chance of his again escaping from them, for his physicalpowers were fast decaying; he was not, in fact, the same man. 

He came out into the parlour from the room in which he had been seatedduring the day. Flora and her mother were there, while Charles Hollandand Henry Bannerworth had both at that moment entered the apartment. 

"Good evening, Miss Bannerworth, " said Sir Francis, bowing to her, andthen to her mother, Mrs. Bannerworth; "and you, Mr. Holland, I see, havebeen out enjoying the free breeze that plays over the hot fields. Itmust be refreshing. "

"It is so, sir, " said Charles. "I wish we could make you a partaker inour walks. "

"I wish you could with all my heart, " said Varney. 

"Sir Francis, " said Flora, "must be a prisoner for some short timelonger yet. "

"I ought not to consider it in any such light. It is not imprisonment. Ihave taken sanctuary. It is the well spring of life to me, " said Varney. 

"I hope it may prove so; but how do you find yourself this evening, SirFrancis Varney?"

"Really, it is difficult to say--I fluctuate. At times, I feel as thoughI should drop insensible on the earth, and then I feel better than Ihave done for some time previously. "

"Doctor Chillingworth will be here bye and bye, no doubt; and he mustsee what he can do for you to relieve you of these symptoms, " saidFlora. 

"I am much beholden to you--much beholden to you; but I hope to be ableto do without the good doctor's aid in this instance, though I mustadmit I may appear ungrateful. "

"Not at all--not at all. "

"Have you heard any news abroad to-day?" inquired Varney. 

"None, Sir Francis--none; there is nothing apparently stirring; and now, go out when you would, you would find nothing but what was old, quiet, and familiar. "

"We cannot wish to look upon anything with mere charms for a mind atease, than we can see under such circumstances; but I fear there aresome few old and familiar features that I should find sad havoc in. "

"You would, certainly, for the burnings and razings to the ground ofsome places, have made some dismal appearances; but time may effacethat, and then the evil may die away, and the future will become thepresent, should we be able to allay popular feeling. "

"Yes, " said Sir Francis; "but popular prejudices, or justice, orfeeling, are things not easily assuaged. The people when once aroused goon to commit all kinds of excess, and there is no one point at whichthey will step short of the complete extirpation of some one object orother that they have taken a fancy to hunt. "

"The hubbub and excitement must subside. "

"The greater the ignorance the more persevering and the more brutal theyare, " said Sir Francis; "but I must not complain of what is thenecessary consequence of their state. "

"It might be otherwise. "

"So it might, and no mischief arise either; but as we cannot divert thestream, we may as well bend to the force of a current too strong toresist. "

"The moon is up, " said Flora, who wished to turn the conversation fromthat to another topic. "I see if yonder through the trees; it rises redand large--it is very beautiful--and yet there is not a cloud about togive it the colour and appearance it now wears. "

"Exactly so, " said Sir Francis Varney; "but the reason is the air isfilled with a light, invisible vapour, that has the effect you perceive. There has been much evaporation going on, and now it shows itself ingiving the moon that peculiar large appearance and deep colour. "

"Ay, I see; it peeps through the trees, the branches of which cut it upinto various portions. It is singular, and yet beautiful, and yet theearth below seems dark. "

"It is dark; you would be surprised to find it so if you walked about. It will soon be lighter than it is at this present moment. "

"What sounds are those?" inquired Sir Francis Varney, as he listenedattentively. 

"Sounds! What sounds?" returned Henry. 

"The sounds of wheels and horses' feet, " said Varney. 

"I cannot even hear them, much less can I tell what they are, " saidHenry. 

"Then listen. Now they come along the road. Cannot you hear them now?"said Varney. 

"Yes, I can, " said Charles Holland; "but I really don't know what theyare, or what it can matter to us; we don't expect any visitors. "

"Certainly, certainly, " said Varney. "I am somewhat apprehensive of theapproach of strange sounds. "

"You are not likely to be disturbed here, " said Charles. 

"Indeed; I thought so when I had succeeded in getting into the housenear the town, and so far from believing it was likely I should bediscovered, that I sat on the house-top while the mob surrounded it. "

"Did you not hear them coming?"

"I did. "

"And yet you did not attempt to escape from them?"

"No, I could not persuade them I was not there save by my utter silence. I allowed them to come too close to leave myself time toescape--besides, I could hardly persuade myself there could be anynecessity for so doing. "

"It was fortunate it was as it happened afterwards, that you were ableto reach the wood, and get out of it unperceived by the mob. "

"I should have been in an unfortunate condition had I been in theirhands long. A man made of iron would not be able to resist the brutalityof those people. "

As they were speaking, a gig, with two men, drove up, followed by one onhorseback. They stopped at the garden-gate, and then tarried to consultwith each other, as they looked at the house. 

"What can they want, I wonder?" inquired Henry; "I never saw thembefore. "

"Nor I, " said Charles Holland. 

"Do you not know them at all?" inquired Varney. 

"No, " replied Flora; "I never saw them, neither can I imagine what istheir object in coming here. "

"Did you ever see them before?" inquired Henry of his mother, who heldup her hand to look more carefully at the strangers; then, shaking herhead, she declared she had never seen such persons as those. 

"I dare say not, " said Charles Holland. "They certainly are notgentlemen; but here they come; there is some mistake, I daresay--theydon't want to come here. "

As they spoke, the two strangers got down; after picking up a topcoatthey had let fall, they turned round, and deliberately put it into thechaise again; they walked up the path to the door, at which theyknocked. 

The door was opened by the old woman, when the two men entered. 

"Does Francis Beauchamp live here?"

"Eh?" said the old woman, who was a little deaf, and she put her handbehind her ear to catch the sounds more distinctly--"eh?--who did yousay?"

Sir Francis Varney started as the sounds came upon his ear, but he satstill an attentive listener. 

"Are there any strangers in the house?" inquired the other officer, impatiently. "Who is here?"

"Strangers!" said the old woman; "you are the only strangers that I haveseen here. "

"Come, " said the officer to his companion, "come this way; there arepeople in this parlour. Our business must be an apology for any rudenesswe may commit. "

As he spoke he stepped by the old woman, and laying his hand upon thehandle of the door, entered the apartment, at the same time lookingcarefully around the room as if he expected some one. 

"Ladies, " said the stranger, with an off-hand politeness that hadsomething repulsive in it, though it was meant to convey a notion thatcivility was intended; "ladies, I beg pardon for intruding, but I amlooking for a gentleman. "

"You shall hear from me again soon, " said Sir Francis, in an almostimperceptible whisper. 

"What is the object of this intrusion?" demanded Henry Bannerworth, rising and confronting the stranger. "This is a strange introduction. "

"Yes, but not an unusual one, " said the stranger, "in these cases--beingunavoidable, at the least. "

"Sir, " said Charles Holland, "if you cannot explain quickly yourbusiness here, we will proceed to take those measures which will atleast rid ourselves of your company. "

"Softly, sir. I mean no offence--not the least; but I tell you I do notcome for any purpose that is at all consonant to my wishes. I am aBow-street officer in the execution of my duty--excuse me, therefore. "

"Whom do you want?"

"Francis Beauchamp; and, from the peculiarity of the appearance of thisindividual here, I think I may safely request the pleasure of hiscompany. "

Varney now rose, and the officer made a rush at him, when he saw him doso, saying, --

"Surrender in the king's name. "

Varney, however, paid no attention to that, but rushed past, throwinghis chair down to impede the officer, who could not stay himself, butfell over it, while Varney made a rush towards the window, which hecleared at one bound, and crossing the road, was lost to sight in a fewseconds, in the trees and hedges on the other side. 

"Accidents will happen, " said the officer, as he rose to his feet; "Idid not think the fellow would have taken the window in that manner; butwe have him in view, and that will be enough. "

"In heaven's name, " said Henry, "explain all about this; we cannotunderstand one word of it--I am at a loss to understand one word of it. "

"We will return and do so presently, " said the officer as he dashed outof the house after the fugitive at a rapid and reckless speed, followedby his companion. 

The man who had been left with the chaise, however, was the first in thechase; seeing an escape from the window, he immediately guessed that hewas the man wanted, and, but for an accident, he would have met Varneyat the gate, for, as he was getting out in a hurry, his foot becameentangled with the reins, and he fell to the ground, and Varney at thesame moment stepped over him. 

"Curse his infernal impudence, and d--n these reins!" muttered the manin a fury at the accident, and the aggravating circumstance of thefugitive walking over him in such a manner, and so coolly too--it wasvexing. 

The man, however, quickly released himself, and rushed after Varneyacross the road, and kept on his track for some time. The moon was stillrising, and shed but a gloomy light around. Everything was almostinvisible until you came close to it. This was the reason why Varney andhis pursuer met with several severe accidents--fumbles and hard knocksagainst impediments which the light and the rapid flight they weretaking did not admit of their avoiding very well. 

They went on for some time, but it was evident Varney knew the placebest, and could avoid what the man could not, and that was the trees andthe natural impediments of the ground, which Varney was acquainted with. 

For instance, at full speed across a meadow, a hollow would suddenlypresent itself, and to an accustomed eye the moonlight might enable itto be distinguished at a glance what it was, while to one whollyunaccustomed to it, the hollow would often look like a hillock by such alight. This Varney would clear at a bound, which a less agile andheavier person would step into, lifting up his leg to meet animpediment, when he would find it come down suddenly some six or eightinches lower than he anticipated, almost dislocating his leg and neck, and producing a corresponding loss of breath, which was not regained bythe muttered curse upon such a country where the places were so uneven. 

Having come to one of these places, which was a little more perceptiblethan the others, he made a desperate jump, but he jumped into the middleof the hole with such force that he sprained his ankle, besides sinkinginto a small pond that was almost dry, being overgrown with rushes andaquatic plants. 

"Well?" said the other officer coming up--"well?"

"Well, indeed!" said the one who came first; "it's anything but well. D--n all country excursions say I. "

"Why, Bob, you don't mean to say as how you are caught in a rat-trap?"

"Oh, you be d----d! I am, ain't I?"

"Yes; but are you going to stop there, or coming out, eh? You'll catchcold. "

"I have sprained my ankle. "

"Well?"

"It ain't well, I tell you; here have I a sprained foot, and my windbroken for a month at least. Why were you not quicker? If you had beensharper we should have had the gentleman, I'll swear!"

"I tumbled down over the chair, and he got out of the window, and I comeout of the door. "

"Well, I got entangled in the reins; but I got off after him, only hislong legs carried him over everything. I tell you what, Wilkinson, if Iwere to be born again, and intended to be a runner, I would bespeak apair of long legs. "

"Why?"

"Because I should be able to get along better. You have no idea of howhe skimmed along the ground; it was quite beautiful, only it wasn't goodto follow it. "

"A regular sky scraper!"

"Yes, or something of that sort; he looked like a patent flying shadow. "

"Well, get up and lead the way; we'll follow you. "

"I dare say you will--when I lead the way back there; for as to goingout yonder, it is quite out of the question. I want supper to-night andbreakfast to-morrow morning. "

"Well, what has that to do with it?"

"Just this much: if you follow any farther, you'll get into the woods, and there you'll be, going round and round, like a squirrel in a cage, without being able to get out, and you will there get none of the goodthings included under the head of those meals. "

"I think so too, " said the third. 

"Well, then, let's go back; we needn't run, though it might be as wellto do so. "

"It would be anything but well. I don't gallop back, depend upon it. "

The three men now slowly returned from their useless chase, and re-trodthe way they had passed once in such a hurry that they could hardlyrecognize it. 

"What a dreadful bump I came against that pole standing there, " saidone. 

"Yes, and I came against a hedge-stake, that was placed so as the moondidn't show any light on it. It came into the pit of my stomach. I neverrecollect such a pain in my life; for all the world like a hot coalbeing suddenly and forcibly intruded into your stomach. "

"Well, here's the road. I must go up to the house where I started himfrom. I promised them some explanation. I may as well go and give it tothem at once. "

"Do as you will. I will wait with the horse, else, perhaps, thatBeauchamp will again return and steal him. "

The officer who had first entered the house now returned to theBannerworths, saying, "I promised you I would give you some explanation as to what you havewitnessed. "

"Yes, " said Henry; "we have been awaiting your return with some anxietyand curiosity. What is the meaning of all this? I am, as we are all, inperfect ignorance of the meaning of what took place. "

"I will tell you. The person whom you have had here, and goes by thename of Varney, is named Francis Beauchamp. "

"Indeed! Are you assured of this?"

"Yes, perfectly assured of it; I have it in my warrant to apprehend himby either name. "

"What crime had he been guilty of?"

"I will tell you: he has been _hanged_. "

"Hanged!" exclaimed all present. 

"What do you mean by that?" added Henry; "I am at a loss to understandwhat you can mean by saying he was hanged. "

"What I say is literally true. "

"Pray tell us all about it. We are much interested in the fact; go on, sir. "

"Well, sir, then I believe it was for murder that Francis Beauchamp washanged--yes, hanged; a common execution, before a multitude of people, collected to witness such an exhibition. "

"Good God!" exclaimed Henry Bannerworth. "And was--but that isimpossible. A dead man come to life again! You must be amusing yourselfat our expense. "

"Not I, " replied the officer. "Here is my warrant; they don't make theseout in a joke. "

And, as he spoke, he produced the warrant, when it was evident theofficer spoke the truth. 

"How was this?"

"I will tell you, sir. You see that this Varney was a regular scamp, gamester, rogue, and murderer. He was hanged, and hung about the usualtime; he was cut down and the body was given to some one for dissection, when a surgeon, with the hangman, one Montgomery, succeeded in restoringthe criminal to life. "

"But I always thought they broke the neck when they were hanged; theweight of the body would alone do that. "

"Oh, dear, no, sir, " said the officer; "that is one of the common everyday mistakes; they don't break the neck once in twenty times. "

"Indeed!"

"No; they die of suffocation only; this man, Beauchamp, was hanged thus, but they contrived to restore him, and then he assumed a new name, andleft London. "

"But how came you to know all this?"

"Oh! it came to us, as many things usually do, in a very extraordinarymanner, and in a manner that appears most singular and out of the way;but such it was. 

"The executioner who was the means of his being restored, or one ofthem, wished to turn him to account, and used to draw a yearly sum ofmoney from him, as hush money, to induce them to keep the secret; else, the fact of his having escaped punishment would subject him to arepetition of the same punishment; when, of course, a little more carewould be taken that he did not escape a second time. "

"I dare say not. "

"Well, you see, Varney, or rather Beauchamp, was to pay a heavy sum tothis man to keep him quiet, and to permit him to enjoy the life he hadso strangely become possessed of. "

"I see, " said Holland. 

"Well, this man, Montgomery, had always some kind of suspicion thatVarney would murder him. "

"Murder him! and he the means of saving his life; surely he could not beso bad as that. "

"Why, you see, sir, this hangman drew a heavy sum yearly from him; thusmaking him only a mine of wealth to himself; this, no doubt, wouldrankle in the other's heart, to think he should be so beset, and holdlife upon such terms. "

"I see, now. "

"Yes; and then came the consideration that he did not do it from anygood motive, merely a selfish one, and he was consequently under noobligation to him for what he had done; besides, self-preservation mighturge him on, and tell him to do the deed. 

"However that may be, Montgomery dreaded it, and was resolved to punishthe deed if he could not prevent it. He, therefore, left general orderswith his wife, whenever he went on a journey to Varney, if he should begone beyond a certain time, she was to open a certain drawer, and takeout a sealed packet to the magistrate at the chief office, who wouldattend to it. 

"He has been missing, and his wife did as she was desired, and now wehave found what he there mentioned to be true; but, now, sir, I havesatisfied you and explained to you why we intruded upon you, we must nowleave and seek for him elsewhere. "

"It is most extraordinary, and that is the reason why his complexion isso singular. "

"Very likely. "

They poured out some wine, which was handed to the officers, who drankand then quitted the house, leaving the inmates in a state ofstupefaction, from surprise and amazement at what they had heard fromthe officers. 

There was a strange feeling came over them when they recollected themany occurrences they had witnessed, and even the explanation of theofficers; it seemed as if some mist had enveloped objects and renderedthem indistinct, but which was fast rising, and they were becomingplainer and more distinct every moment in which they were regarded. 

There was a long pause, and Flora was about to speak, when suddenlythere came the sound of a footstep across the garden. It was slow butunsteady, and paused between whiles until it came close beneath thewindows. They remained silent, and then some one was heard to climb upthe rails of the veranda, and then the curtains were thrust aside, butnot till after the person outside had paused to ascertain who was there. 

Then the curtains were opened, and the visage of Sir Francis Varneyappeared, much altered; in fact, completely worn and exhausted. 

It was useless to deny it, but he looked ghastly--terrific; his singularvisage was as pallid as death; his eyes almost protruding, his mouthopened, and his breathing short, and laboured in the extreme. 

He climbed over with much difficulty, and staggered into the room, andwould have spoken, but he could not; befell senseless upon the floor, utterly exhausted and motionless. 

There was a long pause, and each one present looked at each other, andthen they gazed upon the inanimate body of Sir Francis Varney, which laysupine and senseless in the middle of the floor. 

* * * *

The importance of the document, said to be on the dead body, was suchthat it would admit of no delay before it was obtained, and the partydetermined that it should be commenced instanter. Lost time would be anobject to them; too much haste could hardly be made; and now came thequestion of, "should it be to-night, or not?"

"Certainly, " said Henry Bannerworth; "the sooner we can get it, thesooner all doubt and distress will be at an end; and, considering theturn of events, that will be desirable for all our sakes; besides, weknow not what unlucky accident may happen to deprive us of what is sonecessary. "

"There can be none, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "but there is this to besaid, this has been such an eventful history, that I cannot say whatmight or what might not happen. "

"We may as well go this very night, " said Charles Holland. "I give myvote for an immediate exhumation of the body. The night is somewhatstormy, but nothing more; the moon is up, and there will be plenty oflight. "

"And rain, " said the doctor. 

"Little or none, " said Charles Holland. "A few gusts of wind now andthen drive a few heavy plashes of rain against the windows, and thatgives a fearful sound, which is, in fret, nothing, when you have toencounter it; but you will go, doctor?"

"Yes, most certainly. We must have some tools. "

"Those may be had from the garden, " said Henry. "Tools for theexhumation, you mean?"

"Yes; pickaxe, mattocks, and a crowbar; a lantern, and so forth, " saidthe doctor. "You see I am at home in this; the fact is, I have had morethan one affair of this kind on my hands before now, and whilst astudent I have had more than one adventure of a strange character. "

"I dare say, doctor, " said Charles Holland, "you have some sad pranks toanswer for; you don't think of it then, only when you find themaccumulated in a heap, so that you shall not be able to escape them;because they come over your senses when you sleep at night. "

"No, no, " said Chillingworth; "you are mistaken in that. I have longsince settled all my accounts of that nature; besides, I never took adead body out of a grave but in the name of science, and never far myown profit, seeing I never sold one in my life, or got anything by it. "

"That is not the fact, " said Henry; "you know, doctor, you improved yourown talents and knowledge. "

"Yes, yes; I did. "

"Well, but you profited by such improvements?"

"Well, granted, I did. How much more did the public not benefit then, "said the doctor, with a smile. 

"Ah, well, we won't argue the question, " said Charles; "only it strikesme that the doctor could never have been a doctor if he had notdetermined upon following a profession. "

"There may be a little truth in that, " said Chillingworth; "but now wehad better quit the house, and make the best of our way to the spotwhere the unfortunate man lies buried in his unhallowed grave. "

"Come with me into the garden, " said Henry Bannerworth; "we shall therebe able to suit ourselves to what is required. I have a couple oflanterns. "

"One is enough, " said Chillingworth; "we had better not burden ourselvesmore than we are obliged to do; and we shall find enough to do with thetools. "

"Yes, they are not light; and the distance is by far too great to makewalking agreeable and easy; the wind blows strong, and the rain appearsto be coming up afresh, and, by the time we have done, we shall find theground will become slippy, and bad for walking. "

"Can we have a conveyance?"

"No, no, " said the doctor; "we could, but we must trouble the turnpikeman; besides, there is a shorter way across some fields, which will bebetter and safer. "

"Well, well, " said Charles Holland; "I do not mind which way it is, aslong as you are satisfied yourselves. The horse and cart would havesettled it all better, and done it quicker, besides carrying the tools. "

"Very true, very true, " said the doctor; "all that is not without itsweight, and you shall choose which way you would have it done; for mypart, I am persuaded the expedition on foot is to be preferred for tworeasons. "

"And what are they?"

"The first is, we cannot obtain a horse and cart without giving somedetail as to what you want it for, which is awkward, on account of thehour. Moreover, you could not get one at this moment in time. "

"That ought to settle the argument, " said Henry Bannerworth; "animpossibility, under the circumstances, at once is a clincher, and onethat may be allowed to have some weight. "

"You may say that, " said Charles. 

"Besides which, you must go a greater distance, and that, too, along themain road, which is objectionable. "

"Then we are agreed, " said Charles Holland, "and the sooner we are offthe better; the night grows more and more gloomy every hour, and moreinclement. "

"It will serve our purpose the better, " said Chillingworth. "What we do, we may as well do now. "

"Come with me to the garden, " said Henry, "and we will take the tools. We can go out the back way; that will preclude any observation beingmade. "

They all now left the apartment, wrapped up in great overcoats, tosecure themselves against the weather, and also for the purpose ofconcealing themselves from any chance passenger. 

In the garden they found the tools they required, and having chosenthem, they took a lantern, with the mean of getting a light when theygot to their journey's end, which they would do in less than an hour. 

After having duly inspected the state of their efficiency, they startedaway on their expedition. 

The night had turned gloomy and windy; heavy driving masses of cloudsobscured the moon, which only now and then was to be seen, when theclouds permitted her to peep out. At the same time, there were manydrifting showers, which lasted but a few minutes, and then the cloudswere carried forwards by some sudden gust of wind so that, altogether, it was a most uncomfortable night as well could be imagined. 

However, there was no time to lose, and, under all circumstances, theycould not have chosen a better night for their purpose than the one theyhad; indeed, they could not desire another night to be out on such apurpose. 

They spoke not while they were within sight of the houses, though at thedistance of many yards, and, at the same time, there was a noise throughthe trees that would have carried their voices past every object, however close; but they would make assurance doubly sure. 

"I think we are fairly away now, " said Henry, "from all fear of beingrecognized. "

"To be sure you are. Who would recognize us now, if we were met?"

"No one. "

"I should think not; and, moreover, there would be but small chance ofany evil coming from it, even if it were to happen that we were to beseen and known. Nobody knows what we are going to do, and, if they did, there is no illegality in the question. "

"Certainly not; but we wish the matter to be quite secret, therefore, wedon't wish to be seen by any one while upon this adventure. "

"Exactly, " said Chillingworth; "and, if you'll follow my guidance, youshall meet nobody. "

"We will trust you, most worthy doctor. What have you to say for ourconfidence?"

"That you will find it is not misplaced. "

Just as the doctor had uttered the last sound, there came a hearty laughupon the air, which, indeed, sounded but a few paces in advance of them. The wind blew towards them, and would, therefore, cause the sounds tocome to them, but not to go away in the direction they were going. 

The whole party came to a sudden stand still; there was something sostrange in hearing a laugh at that moment, especially as Chillingworthwas, at that moment, boasting of his knowledge of the ground and thecertainty of their meeting no one. 

"What is that?" inquired Henry. 

"Some one laughing, I think, " said Chillingworth. 

"Of that there can be little or no doubt, " said Charles Holland; "and, as people do not usually laugh by themselves so heartily, it may bepresumed there are, at least, two. "

"No doubt of it. "

"And, moreover, their purpose cannot be a very good one, at this hour ofthe night, and of such a night, too. I think we had better be cautious. "

"Hush! Follow me silently, " said Henry. 

As he spoke, he moved cautiously from the spot where he stood, and, atthe same time, he was followed by the whole party, until they came tothe hedge which skirted a lane, in which were seated three men. 

They had a sort of tent erected, and that was hung upon a part of thehedge which was to windward of them, so that it sheltered them from windand rain. 

Henry and Chillingworth both peeped over the bank, and saw them seatedbeneath this kind of canopy. They were shabby, gipsy-looking men, whomight be something else--sheep-stealers, or horse-stealers, in fact, anything, even to beggars. 

"I say, Jack, " said one; "it's no bottle to-night. "

"No; there's nobody about these parts to-night. We are safe, and so arethey. "

"Exactly. "

"Besides, you see, those who do happen to be out are not worth talkingto. "

"No cash. "

"None, not enough to pay turnpike for a walking-slick, at the most. "

"Besides, it does us no good to take a few shillings from a poor wretch, who has more in family than he has shillings in pocket. "

"Ay, you are right, quite right. I don't like it myself, I don't;besides that, there's fresh risk in every man you stop, and these poorfellows will fight hard for a few shillings, and there is no knowingwhat an unlucky blow may do for a man. "

"That is very true. Has anything been done to-night?"

"Nothing, " said one. 

"Only three half crowns, " said the other; "that is the extent of thecommon purse to-night. "

"And I, " said the third, "I have got a bottle of bad gin from the Catand Cabbage-stump. "

"How did you manage it?"

"Why, this way. I went in, and had some beer, and you know I can give along yarn when I want; but it wants only a little care to deceive theseknowing countrymen, so I talked and talked, until they got quite chatty, and then I put the gin in my pocket. "

"Good. "

"Well, then, the loaf and beef I took out of the safe as I came by, andI dare say they know they have lost it by this time. "

"Yes, and so do we. I expect the gin will help to digest the beef, so wemustn't complain of the goods. "

"No; give us another glass, Jim. "

Jim held the glass towards him, when the doctor, animated by the spiritof mischief, took a good sized pebble, and threw it into the glass, smashing it, and spilling the contents. 

In a moment there was a change of scene; the men were all terrified, andstarted to their feet, while a sudden gust of wind caused their light togo out; at the same time their tent-cloth was thrown down by the wind, and fell across their heads. 

"Come along, " said the doctor. 

There was no need of saying so, for in a moment the three were as ifanimated by one spirit, and away they scudded across the fields, withthe speed of a race horse. 

In a few minutes they were better than half a mile away from the spot. 

"In absence of all authentic information, " said the doctor, speaking aswell as he could, and blowing prodigiously between each word, as thoughhe were fetching breath all the way from his heels, "I think I we mayconclude we are safe from them. We ought to thank our stars we cameacross them in the way we did. "

"But, doctor, what in the name of Heaven induced you to make such anoise, to frighten them, in fact, and to tell them some one was about?"

"They were too much terrified to tell whether it was one, or fifty. Bythis time they are out of the county; they knew what they were talkingabout. "

"And perhaps we may meet them on the road where we are going, thinkingit a rare lonely spot where they can hide, and no chance of their beingfound out. "

[Illustration]

"No, " said the doctor; "they will not go to such a place; it has by fartoo bad a name for even such men as those to go near, much less stopin. "

"I can hardly think that, " said Charles Holland, "for these fellows aretoo terrified for their personal safety, to think of the superstitiousfears with which a place may be regarded; and these men, in such a placeas the one you speak of, they will be at home. "

"Well, well, rather than be done, we must fight for it; and when youcome to consider we have one pick and two shovels, we shall be in fullforce. "

"Well said, doctor; how far have we to go?"

"Not more than a quarter of a mile. "

They pursued their way through the fields, and under the hedge-rows, until they came to a gate, where they stopped awhile, and began toconsult and to listen. 

"A few yards up here, on the left, " said the doctor; "I know the spot;besides, there is a particular mark. Now, then, are you all ready?"

"Yes, all. "

"Here, " said the doctor, pointing out the marks by which the spot mightbe recognized; "here is the spot, and I think we shall not be half afoot out of our reckoning. "

"Then let us begin instanter, " said Henry, as he seized hold of thepickaxe, and began to loosen the earth by means of the sharp end. 

"That will do for the present, " said Chillingworth; "now let me andCharles take a turn with our shovels, and you will get on againpresently. Throw the earth up on the bank in one heap, so that we canput it on again without attracting any attention to the spot by itsbeing left in clods and uneven. "

"Exactly, " said Henry, "else the body will be discovered. "

They began to shovel away, and continued to do so, after it had beenpicked up, working alternately, until at length Charles stuck hispick-axe into something soft, and upon pulling it up, he found it wasthe body. 

A dreadful odour now arose from the spot, and they were at no loss totell where the body lay. The pick-axe had stuck into the deceased's ribsand clothing, and thus lifted it out of its place. 

"Here it is, " said the doctor; "but I needn't tell you that; thecharnel-house smell is enough to convince you of the fact of where itis. "

"I think so; just show a light upon the subject, doctor, and then we cansee what we are about--do you mind, doctor--you have the management ofthe lantern, you know?"

"Yes, yes, " said Chillingworth; "I see you have it--don't be in a hurry, but do things deliberately and coolly whatever you do--you will not beso liable to make mistakes, or to leave anything undone. "

"There will be nothing of any use to you here, doctor, in the way ofdissection, for the flesh is one mass of decay. What a horrible sight, to be sure!"

"It is; but hasten the search. "

"Well, I must; though, to confess the truth, I'd sooner handle anythingthan this. "

"It is not the most pleasant thing in the world, for there is no knowingwhat may be the result--what creeping thing has made a home of it. "

"Don't mention anything about it. "

Henry and Charles Holland now began to search the pockets of the clothesof the dead body, in one of which was something hard, that felt like aparcel. 

"What have you got there?" said Chillingworth, as he held his lantern upso that the light fell upon the ghastly object that they were handling. 

"I think it is the prize, " said Charles Holland; "but we have not got itout yet, though I dare say it won't be long first, if this wind will buthold good for about five minutes, and keep the stench down. "

They now tore open the packet and pulled out the papers, which appearedto have been secreted upon his person. 

"Be sure there are none on any other part of the body, " saidChillingworth, "because what you do now, you had better do well, andleave nothing to after thought, because it is frequently impracticable. "

"The advice is good, " said Henry, who made a second search, but foundnothing. 

"We had better re-bury him, " said the doctor; "it had better be donecleanly. Well, it is a sad hole for a last resting-place, and yet I donot know that it matters--it is all a matter of taste--the fashion ofthe class, or the particular custom of the country. "

There was but little to be said against such an argument, though thecustom of the age had caused them to look upon it more as a matter offeeling than in such a philosophical sense as that in which the doctorhad put it. 

"Well, there he is now--shovel the earth in, Charles, " said HenryBannerworth, as he himself set the example, which was speedily andvigorously followed by Charles Holland, when they were not long beforethe earth was thrown in and covered up with care, and trodden down sothat it should not appear to be moved. 

"This will do, I think, " said Henry. 

"Yes; it is not quite the same, but I dare say no one will try to makeany discoveries in this place; besides, if the rain continues to comedown very heavy, why, it will wash much of it away, and it will make itlook all alike. "

There was little inducement to hover about the spot, but Henry could notforbear holding up the papers to the light of the lantern to ascertainwhat they were. 

"Are they all right?" inquired the doctor. 

"Yes, " replied Henry, "yes. The Dearbrook estate. Oh! yes; they are thepapers I am in want of. "

"It is singularly fortunate, at least, to be successful in securingthem. I am very glad a living person has possession of them, else itwould have been very difficult to have obtained it from them. "

"So it would; but now homeward is the word, doctor; and on my word thereis reason to be glad, for the rain is coming on very fast now, and thereis no moon at all--we had better step out. "

They did, for the three walked as fast as the nature of the soil wouldpermit them, and the darkness of the night. 

CHAPTER LXXXIX. 

TELLS WHAT BECAME OF THE SECOND VAMPYRE WHO SOUGHT VARNEY. 

[Illustration]

We left the Hungarian nobleman swimming down the stream; he swam slowly, and used but little exertion in doing so. He appeared to use his handsonly as a means of assistance. 

The stream carried him onwards, and he aided himself so far that he keptthe middle of the stream, and floated along. 

Where the stream was broad and shallow, it sometimes left him a momentor two, without being strong enough to carry him onwards; then he wouldpause, as if gaining strength, and finally he would, when he had rested, and the water came a little faster, and lifted him, make a desperateplunge, and swim forward, until he again came in deep water, and then hewent slowly along with the stream, as he supported himself. 

It was strange thus to see a man going down slowly, and without anyeffort whatever, passing through shade and through moonlight--now lostin the shadow of the tall trees, and now emerging into that part of thestream which ran through meadows and cornfields, until the streamwidened, and then, at length, a ferry-house was to be seen in thedistance. 

Then came the ferryman out of his hut, to look upon the beautifulmoonlight scene. It was cold, but pure, and brilliantly light. Thechaste moon was sailing through the heavens, and the stars diminished intheir lustre by the power of the luminous goddess of night. 

There was a small cottage--true, it was somewhat larger than wasgenerally supposed by any casual observer who might look at it. Theplace was rambling, and built chiefly of wood; but in it lived theferryman, his wife, and family; among these was a young girl aboutseventeen years of age, but, at the same time, very beautiful. 

They had been preparing their supper, and the ferryman himself walkedout to look at the river and the shadows of the tall trees that stood onthe hill opposite. 

While thus employed, he heard a plashing in the water, and on turningtowards the quarter whence the sound proceeded for a few yards, he cameto the spot where he saw the stranger struggling in the stream. 

"Good God!" he muttered to himself, as he saw the struggle continued;"good God! he will sink and drown. "

As he spoke, he jumped into his boat and pushed it off, for the purposeof stopping the descent of the body down the stream, and in a moment ortwo it came near to him. He muttered, --

"Come, come--he tries to swim; life is not gone yet--he will do now, ifI can catch hold of him. Swimming with one's face under the streamdoesn't say much for his skill, though it may account for the fact thathe don't cry out. "

As the drowning man neared, the ferryman held on by the boat-hook, andstooping down, he seized the drowning man by the hair of the head, andthen paused. 

After a time, he lifted him up, and placed him across the edge of theboat, and then, with some struggling of his own, he was rolled over intothe boat. 

"You are safe now, " muttered the ferryman. 

The stranger spoke not, but sat or leaned against the boat's head, sobbing and catching at his breath, and spitting off his stomach thewater it might be presumed he had swallowed. 

The ferryman put back to the shore, when he paused, and secured hisboat, and then pulled the stranger out, saying, --

"Do you feel any better now?"

"Yes, " said the stranger; "I feel I am living--thanks to you, my goodfriend; I owe you my life. "

"You are welcome to that, " replied the ferryman; "it costs me nothing;and, as for my little trouble, I should be sorry to think of that, whena fellow-being's life was in danger. "

"You have behaved very well--very well, and I can do little more nowthan thank you, for I have been robbed of all I possessed about me atthe moment. "

"Oh! you have been robbed?"

"Aye, truly, I have, and have been thrown into the water, and thus Ihave been nearly murdered. "

"It is lucky you escaped from them without further injury, " said theferryman; "but come in doors, you must be mad to stand here in thecold. "

"Thank you; your hospitality is great, and, at this moment, of thegreatest importance to me. "

"Such as we have, " said the honest ferryman, "you shall be welcome to. Come in--come in. "

He turned round and led the way to the house, which he entered, saying--as he opened the small door that led into the main apartment, where all the family were assembled, waiting for the almost only mealthey had had that day, for the ferryman had not the means, before thesun had set, of sending for food, and then it was a long way before itcould be found, and then it was late before they could get it, --

"Wife, we have a stranger to sleep with us to-night, and for whom wemust prepare a bed. "

"A stranger!" echoed the wife--"a stranger, and we so poor!"

"Yes; one whose life I have saved, and who was nearly drowned. We cannotrefuse hospitality upon such an occasion as that, you know, wife. "

The wife looked at the stranger as he entered the room, and sat down bythe fire. 

"I am sorry, " he said, "to intrude upon you; but I will make you amendsfor the interruption and inconvenience I may cause you; but it is toolate to apply elsewhere, and yet I am doubtful, if there were, whether Icould go any further. "

"No, no, " said the ferryman; "I am sure a man who has been beaten androbbed, and thrown into a rapid and, in some parts, deep stream, is notfit to travel at this time of night. "

"You are lonely about here, " said the stranger, as he shivered by thefire. 

"Yes, rather; but we are used to it. "

"You have a family, too; that must help to lighten the hours away, andhelp you over the long evenings. "

"So you may think, stranger, and, at times, so it is; but when food runsshort, it is a long while to daylight, before any more money can be had. To be sure, we have fish in the river, and we have what we can grow inthe garden; but these are not all the wants that we feel, and thoseothers are sometimes pinching. However, we are thankful for what wehave, and complain but little when we can get no more; but sometimes wedo repine--though I cannot say we ought--but I am merely relating thefact, whether it be right or wrong. "

"Exactly. How old is your daughter?"

"She is seventeen come Allhallow's eve. "

"That is not far hence, " said the stranger. "I hope I may be in thispart of the country--and I think I shall--I will on that eve pay you avisit; not one on which I shall be a burden to you, but one more usefulto you, and more consonant to my character. "

"The future will tell us all about that, " said the ferryman; "at presentwe will see what we can do, without complaining, or taxing anybody. "

The stranger and the ferryman sat conversing for some time before thefire, and then the latter pointed out to him which was his bed--one madeup near the fire, for the sake of its warmth; and then the ferrymanretired to the next room, a place which was merely divided by animperfect partition. 

However, they all fell soundly asleep. The hours on that day had beenlonger than usual; there was not that buoyancy of spirit; when theyretired, they fell off into a heavy, deep slumber. 

From this they were suddenly aroused by loud cries and piercing screamsfrom one of the family. 

So loud and shrill were the cries, that they all started up, terrifiedand bewildered beyond measure, unable to apply their faculties to anyone object. 

"Help--help, father!--help!" shrieked the voice of the young girl whomwe have before noticed. 

The ferryman jumped up, and rushed to the spot where his daughter lay. 

"Fanny, " he said--"Fanny, what ails thee--what ails thee? Tell me, mydear child. "

"Oh!" she exclaimed, almost choked--"oh, father! are we all alone? I amterrified. "

"What ails thee--what ails thee? Tell me what caused you to scream outin such a manner?"

"I--I--that is I, father, thought--but no, I am sure it was reality. Where is the stranger?"

"A light--a light!" shouted the fisherman. 

In another moment a light was brought him, and he discovered thestranger reclining in his bed, but awake, and looking around him, as ifin the utmost amazement. 

"What has happened?" he said--"what has happened?"

"That is more than I know as yet, " the man replied. "Come, Fanny, " headded, "tell me what it is you fear. What caused you to scream out inthat dreadful manner?"

"Oh, father--the vampyre!"

"Great God! what do you mean, Fanny, by that?"

"I hardly know, father. I was fast asleep, when I thought I feltsomething at my threat; but being very sound asleep, I did notimmediately awake. Presently I felt the sharp pang of teeth being driveninto the flesh of my neck--I awoke, and found the vampyre at his repast. Oh, God! oh, God! what shall I do?"

"Stay, my child, let us examine the wound, " said the fisherman, and heheld the candle to the spot where the vampyre's teeth had been applied. There, sure enough, were teeth marks, such as a human being's would makewere they applied, but no blood had been drawn therefrom. 

"Come, come, Fanny; so far, by divine Providence, you are not injured;another moment, and the mischief would have been done entire andcomplete, and you would have been his victim. "

Then turning to the stranger, he said, --

"You have had some hand in this. No human being but you could come intothis place. The cottage door is secured. You must be the vampyre. "

"I!"

"Yes; who else could?"

"I!--As Heaven's my judge--but there, it's useless to speak of it; Ihave not been out of my bed. In this place, dark as it is, and less usedto darkness than you, I could not even find my way about. --It isimpossible. "

"Get out of your bed, and let me feel, " said the ferryman, peremptorily--"get out, and I will soon tell. "

The stranger arose, and began to dress himself, and the ferrymanimmediately felt the bed on which he had been lying; but it was icecold--so cold that he started upon his legs in an instant, exclaimingwith vehemence, --

"It is you, vile wretch! that has attempted to steal into the cottage ofthe poor man, and then to rob him of his only child, and that child ofher heart's blood, base ingrate!"

"My friend, you are wrong, entirely wrong. I am not the creature youbelieve me. I have slept, and slept soundly, and awoke not until yourdaughter screamed. "

"Scoundrel!--liar!--base wretch! you shall not remain alive to injurethose who have but one life to lose. "

As he spoke, the ferryman made a desperate rush at the vampyre, andseized him by the throat, and a violent struggle ensued, in which thesuperior strength of the ferryman prevailed, and he brought hisantagonist to the earth, at the same time bestowing upon him somedesperate blows. 

"Thou shall go to the same element from which I took thee, " said theferryman, "and there swim or sink as thou wilt until some one shall dragthee ashore, and when they do, may they have a better return than I. "

As he spoke, he dragged along the stranger by main force until they cameto the bank of the river, and then pausing, to observe the deepest part, he said, --

"Here, then, you shall go. "

The vampyre struggled, and endeavoured to speak, but he could not; thegrasp at his throat prevented all attempts at speech; and then, with asudden exertion of his strength, the ferryman lifted the stranger up, and heaved him some distance into the river. 

Then in deep water sank the body. 

The ferryman watched for some moments, and farther down the stream hesaw the body again rise upon the current and struggling slightly, as forlife--now whirled around and around, and then carried forward with theutmost velocity. 

This continued as far as the moonlight enabled the ferryman to see, andthen, with a slow step and clouded brow, he returned to his cottage, which he entered, and closed the door. 

CHAPTER XC. 

DR. CHILLINGWORTH AT THE HALL. --THE ENCOUNTER OF MYSTERY. --THECONFLICT. --THE RESCUE, AND THE PICTURE. 

[Illustration]

There have been many events that have passed rapidly in this ournarrative; but more have yet to come before we can arrive at that pointwhich will clear up much that appears to be most mysterious andunaccountable. 

Doctor Chillingworth, but ill satisfied with the events that had yettaken place, determined once more upon visiting the Hall, and there toattempt a discovery of something respecting the mysterious apartment inwhich so much has already taken place. 

He communicated his design to no one; he resolved to prosecute theinquiry alone. He determined to go there and await whatever might turnup in the shape of events. He would not for once take any companion;such adventures were often best prosecuted alone--they were most easilybrought to something like an explanatory position, one person can oftenconsider matters more coolly than more. At all events, there is moresecrecy than under any other circumstances. 

Perhaps this often is of greater consequence than many others; and, moreover, when there is more than one, something is usually overdone. Where one adventurous individual will rather draw back in a pursuit, more than one would induce them to urge each other on. 

In fact, one in such a case could act the part of a spy--a secretobserver; and in that case can catch people at times when they could notunder any other circumstances be caught or observed at all. 

"I will go, " he muttered; "and should I be compelled to run away again, why, nobody knows anything about it and nobody will laugh at me. "

This was all very well; but Mr. Chillingworth was not the man to runaway without sufficient cause. But there was so much mystery in all thisthat he felt much interested in the issue of the affair. But this issuehe could not command; at the same time he was determined to sit andwatch, and thus become certain that either something or nothing was totake place. 

Even the knowledge of that much--that some inexplicable action was stillgoing on--was far preferable to the uncertainty of not knowing whetherwhat had once been going on was still so or not, because, if it hadceased, it was probable that nothing more would ever be known concerningit, and the mystery would still be a mystery to the end of time. 

"It shall be fathomed if there be any possibility of its beingdiscovered, " muttered Chillingworth. "Who would have thought that soquiet and orderly a spot as this, our quiet village, would have sufferedso much commotion and disturbance? Far from every cause of noise andstrife, it is quite as great a matter of mystery as the vampyre businessitself. 

"I have been so mixed up in this business that I must go through withit. By the way, of the mysteries, the greatest that I have met with isthe fact of the vampyre having anything to do with so quiet a family asthe Bannerworths. "

Mr. Chillingworth pondered over the thought; but yet he could makenothing of it. It in no way tended to elucidate anything connected withthe affair, and it was much too strange and singular in all its parts tobe submitted to any process of thought, with any hope of coming toanything like a conclusion upon the subject--that must remain until somefacts were ascertained, and to obtain them Mr. Chillingworth nowdetermined to try. 

This was precisely what was most desirable in the present state ofaffairs; while things remained in the present state of uncertainty, there would be much more of mystery than could ever be brought to light. 

One or two circumstances cleared up, the minor ones would follow in thesame train, and they would be explained by the others; and if ever thathappy state of things were to come about, why, then there would be aperfect calm in the town. 

As Mr. Chillingworth was going along, he thought he observed two mensitting inside a hedge, close to a hay-rick, and thinking neither ofthem had any business there, he determined to listen to theirconversation, and ascertain if it had any evil tendency, or whether itconcerned the late event. 

Having approached near the gate, and they being on the other side, hegot over without any noise, and, unperceived by either of them, creptclose up to them. 

"So you haven't long come from sea?"

"No; I have just landed. "

"How is it you have thrown aside your seaman's clothes and taken tothese?"

"Just to escape being found out. "

"Found out! what do you mean by that? Have you been up to anything?"

"Yes, I have, Jack. I have been up to something, worse luck to me; butI'm not to be blamed either. "

"What is it all about?" inquired his companion. "I always thought youwere such a steady-going old file that there was no going out of theeven path with you. "

"Nor would there have been, but for one simple circumstance. "

"What was that?"

"I will tell you, Jack--I will tell you; you will never betray me, I amsure. "

"Never, by heavens!"

"Well, then, listen--it was this. I had been some time aboard ourvessel. I had sailed before, but the captain never showed any signs ofbeing a bad man, and I was willing enough to sail with him again. 

"He knew I was engaged to a young woman in this country, and that I waswilling to work hard to save money to make up a comfortable home for usboth, and that I would not sail again, but that I intended to remainashore, and make up my mind to a shore life. "

"Well, you would have a house then?"

"Exactly; and that's what I wished to do. Well, I made a small venturein the cargo, and thought, by so doing, that I should have a chance ofrealizing a sum of money that would put us both in a comfortable line ofbusiness. 

"Well, we went on very smoothly until we were coming back. We haddisposed of the cargo, and I had received some money, and this seemed tocause our captain to hate me, because I had been successful; but Ithought there was something else in it than that, but I could not tellwhat it was that made him so intolerably cross and tyrannous. 

"Well, I found out, at length, he knew my intended wife. He knew hervery well, and at the same time he made every effort he could to induceme to commit some act of disobedience and insubordination; but I wouldnot, for it seemed to me he was trying all he could to prevent my doingmy duty with anything like comfort. 

"However, I learned the cause of all this afterwards. It was told me byone of the crew. 

"'Bill, ' said my mate, 'look out for yourself. '

"'What's in the wind?' said I. 

"'Only the captain has made a dead set at you, and you'll be a lucky manif you escape. '

"'What's it all about?' said I. 'I cannot understand what he means. Ihave done nothing wrong. I don't see why I should suddenly be treated inthis way. '

"'It's all about your girl, Bill. '

"'Indeed!' said I. 'What can that have to do with the captain? he knowsnothing of her. '

"'Oh, yes, he does, ' he said. 'If it were not for you he would have thegirl himself. '

"'I see now, ' said I. 

"'Ay, and so can a blind man if you open his eyes; but he wants to makeyou do wrong--to goad you on to do something that will give him thepower of disgracing you, and, perhaps, of punishing you. '

"'He won't do that, ' said I. 

"'I am glad to hear you say so, Bill; for, to my mind, he has made uphis mind to go the whole length against you. I can't make it out, unlesshe wishes you were dead. '

"'I dare say he does, ' said I; 'but I will take care I will live toexact a reckoning when he comes ashore. '

"'That is the best; and when we are paid off, Bill, if you will take itout of him, and pay him off, why, I don't care if I lend you a hand. '

"'We'll say more about that, Dick, ' said I, 'when we get ashore and arepaid off. If we are overheard now, it will be said that we areconspiring, or committing mutiny, or something of that sort. '

"'You are right, Bill, ' he said--'you are right. We'll say no more aboutthis now, but you may reckon upon me when we are no longer under hisorders. '

"'Then there's no danger, you know. '

"Well, we said nothing about this, but I thought of it, and I had causeenough, too, to think of it; for each day the captain grew more and moretyrannous and brutal. I knew not what to do, but kept my resolution ofdoing my duty in spite of all he could do, though I don't mind admittingI had more than one mind to kill him and myself afterwards. 

"However, I contrived to hold out for another week or two, and then wecame into port, and were released from his tyranny. I got paid off, andthen I met my messmate, and we had some talk about the matter. 

"'The worst of it is, ' said I, 'we shall have some difficulty to catchhim; and, if we can, I'll be sworn we shall give him enough to last himfor at least a voyage or two. '

"'He ought to have it smart, ' said my messmate; 'and I know where he isto be found. '

"'Do you?--at what hour?'

"'Late at night, when he may be met with as he comes from a house wherehe spends his evenings. "

"'That will be the best time in the world, when we shall have lessinterference than at any other time in the day. But we'll have a turnto-night if you will be with me, as he will be able to make too good adefence to one. It will be a fight, and not a chastisement. '

"'It will. I will be with you; you know where to meet me. I shall be atthe old spot at the usual time, and then we will go. '

"We parted; and, in the evening, we both went together, and sought theplace where we should find him out, and set upon him to advantage. 

"He was nearly two hours before he came; but when he did come, wesaluted him with a rap on the head, that made him hold his tongue; andthen we set to, and gave him such a tremendous drubbing, that we lefthim insensible; but he was soon taken away by some watchmen, and weheard that he was doing well; but he was dreadfully beaten; indeed, itwould take him some weeks before he could be about in his duties. 

"He was fearfully enraged, and offered fifty pounds reward to any onewho could give him information as to who it was that assaulted him. 

"I believe he had a pretty good notion of who it was; but he could notswear to me; but still, seeing he was busying himself too much about me, I at once walked away, and went on my way to another part of thecountry. "

"To get married?"

"Ay, and to get into business. "

"Then, things are not quite so bad as I thought for at first. "

"No--no, not so bad but what they might have been worse a great deal;only I cannot go to sea any more, that's quite certain. "

"You needn't regret that. "

"I don't know. "

"Why not know? Are you not going to be married?--ain't that muchbetter?"

"I can't say, " replied the sailor; "there's no knowing how my bargainmay turn out; if she does well, why, then the cruising is over; butnothing short of that will satisfy me; for if my wife is at all not whatI wish her to be, why, I shall be off to sea. "

"I don't blame you, either; I would do so too, if it were possible; butyou see, we can't do so well on land as you do at sea; we can befollowed about from pillar to post, and no bounds set to ourpersecution. "

"That's true enough, " said the other; "we can cut and run when we havehad enough of it. However, I must get to the village, as I shall sleepthere to-night, if I find my quarters comfortable enough. "

"Come on, then, at once, " said his companion; "it's getting dark now;and you have no time to lose. "

These two now got up, and walked away towards the village; andChillingworth arose also, and pursued his way towards the Hall, while heremarked to himself, --

"Well--well, they have nothing to do with that affair at all events. By-the-bye, I wonder what amount of females are deserted in the navy;they certainly have an advantage over landsmen, in the respect of beingtied to tiresome partners; they can, at least, for a season, get arelease from their troubles, and be free at sea. "

However, Mr. Chillingworth got to the Hall, and unobserved, for he hadbeen especially careful not to be seen; he had watched on all sides, andno signs of a solitary human being had he seen, that could in any waymake the slightest observation upon him. 

Indeed, he had sheltered himself from observation at every point of hisroad, especially so when near Bannerworth Hall, where there were plentyof corners to enable him to do so; and when he arrived there, he enteredat the usual spot, and then sat down a few moments in the bower. 

"I will not sit here, " he muttered. "I will go and have a watch at thatmysterious picture; there is the centre of attraction, be it what itmay. "

As he spoke, he arose and walked into the house, and entered the sameapartment which has been so often mentioned to the reader. 

Here he took a chair, and sat down full before the picture, and began tocontemplate it. 

"Well, for a good likeness, I cannot say I ever saw anything moreunprepossessing. I am sure such a countenance as that could never havewon a female heart. Surely, it is more calculated to terrify theimagination, than to soothe the affections of the timid and shrinkingfemale. 

"However, I will have an inspection of the picture, and see if I canmake anything of it. "

As he spoke, he put his hand upon the picture with the intention ofremoving it, when it suddenly was thrust open, and a man stepped down. 

The doctor was for a moment completely staggered, it was so utterlyunexpected, and he stepped back a pace or two in the first emotion ofhis surprise; but this soon passed by, and he prepared to close with hisantagonist, which he did without speaking a word. 

There was a fair struggle for more than two or three minutes, duringwhich the doctor struggled and fought most manfully; but it was evidentthat Mr. Chillingworth had met with a man who was his superior in pointof strength, for he not only withstood the utmost force thatChillingworth could bring against him, but maintained himself, andturned his strength against the doctor. 

Chillingworth panted with exertion, and found himself gradually losingground, and was upon the point of being thrown down at the mercy of hisadversary, who appeared to be inclined to take all advantages of him, when an occurrence happened that altered the state of affairsaltogether. 

While they were struggling, the doctor borne partially to the earth--butyet struggling, suddenly his antagonist released his hold, and staggeredback a few paces. 

"There, you swab--take that; I am yard-arm and yard-arm with you, youpiratical-looking craft--you lubberly, buccaneering son of a fish-fag. "

Before, however, Jack Pringle, for it was he who came so opportunely tothe rescue of Doctor Chillingworth, could find time to finish thesentence, he found himself assailed by the very man who, but a minutebefore, he had, as he thought, placed _hors de combat_. 

[Illustration]

A desperate fight ensued, and the stranger made the greatest efforts toescape with the picture, but found he could not get off without adesperate struggle. He was, at length, compelled to relinquish the hopeof carrying that off, for both Mr. Chillingworth and Jack Pringle wereengaged hand to hand; but the stranger struck Jack so heavy a blow onthe head, that made him reel a few yards, and then he escaped throughthe window, leaving Jack and Mr. Chillingworth masters of the field, butby no means unscathed by the conflict in which they had been engaged. 

CHAPTER XCI. 

THE GRAND CONSULTATION BROKEN UP BY MRS. CHILLINGWORTH, AND THEDISAPPEARANCE OF VARNEY. 

[Illustration]

Remarkable was the change that had taken place in the circumstances ofthe Bannerworth family. From a state of great despondency, and, indeed, absolute poverty, they had suddenly risen to comfort and independence. 

It seemed as if the clouds that had obscured their destiny, had now, with one accord, dissipated, and that a brighter day was dawning. Notonly had the circumstances of mental terror which had surrounded themgiven way in a great measure to the light of truth and reflection, butthose pecuniary distresses which had pressed upon them for a time, werelikewise passing away, and it seemed probable that they would be in aprosperous condition. 

_The acquisition of the title deeds of the estate_, which they thoughthad passed away from the family for ever, became to them, in theirpresent circumstances, an immense acquisition, and brought to theirminds a feeling of great contentment. 

Many persons in their situation would have been extremely satisfied athaving secured so strong an interest in the mind of the old admiral, whowas very wealthy, and who, from what he had already said and done, nodoubt fully intended to provide handsomely for the Bannerworth family. 

And not only had they this to look forward to, if they had chosen toregard it as an advantage, but they knew that by the marriage of Florawith Charles Holland she would have a fortune at her disposal, while he(Charles) would be the last man in the world to demur at any reasonableamount of it being lavished upon her mother and her brothers. 

But all this did not suit the high and independent spirit of HenryBannerworth. He was one who would rather have eaten the dust that heprocured for himself by some meritorious exertion, than have feasted onthe most delicate viands placed before him from the resources ofanother. 

But now that he knew this small estate, the title deeds of which hadbeen so singularly obtained, had once really belonged to the family, buthad been risked and lost at the gaming-table, he had no earthly scruplein calling such property again his own. 

As to the large sum of money which Sir Francis Varney in his confessionshad declared to have found its way into the possession of MarmadukeBannerworth, Henry did not expect, and scarcely wished to becomepossessed of wealth through so tainted a source. 

"No, " he said to himself frequently; "no--I care not if that wealth benever forthcoming, which was so badly got possession of. Let it sinkinto the earth, if, indeed, it be buried there; or let it rot in someunknown corner of the old mansion. I care not for it. "

In this view of the case he was not alone, for a family more unselfish, or who cared so little for money, could scarcely have been found; butAdmiral Bell and Charles Holland argued now that they had a right to theamount of money which Marmaduke Bannerworth had hidden somewhere, andthe old admiral reasoned upon it rather ingeniously, for he said, --

"I suppose you don't mean to dispute that the money belongs to somebody, and in that case I should like to know who else it belonged to, if notto you? How do you get over that, master Henry?"

"I don't attempt to get over it at all, " said Henry; "all I say is, thatI do dislike the whole circumstances connected with it, and the mannerin which it was come by; and, now that we have a small independence, Ihope it will not be found. But, admiral, we are going to hold a familyconsultation as to what we shall do, and what is to become of Varney. Hehas convinced me of his relationship to our family, and, although hisconduct has certainly been extremely equivocal, he has made all theamends in his power; and now, as he is getting old, I do not like tothrow him upon the wide world for a subsistence. "

"You don't contemplate, " said the admiral, "letting him remain with you, do you?"

"No; that would be objectionable for a variety of reasons; and I couldnot think of it for a moment. "

"I should think not. The idea of sitting down to breakfast, dinner, tea, and supper with a vampyre, and taking your grog with a fellow that sucksother people's blood!"

"Really, admiral, you do not really still cling to the idea that SirFrancis Varney is a vampyre. "

"I really don't know; he clings to it himself, that's all I can say; andI think, under those circumstances, I might as well give him the benefitof his own proposition, and suppose that he is a vampyre. "

"Really, uncle, " said Charles Holland, "I did think that you haddiscarded the notion. "

"Did you? I have been thinking of it, and it ain't so desirable to be avampyre, I am sure, that any one should pretend to it who is not;therefore, I take the fellow upon his own showing. He is a vampyre inhis own opinion, and so I don't see, for the life of me, why he shouldnot be so in ours. "

"Well, " said Henry, "waving all that, what are we to do with him?Circumstances seem to have thrown him completely at our mercy. What arewe to do with him, and what is to become of him for the future?"

"I'll tell you what I'll do, " said the admiral. "If he were ten times avampyre, there is some good in the fellow; and I will give him enough tolive upon if he will go to America and spend it. They will take goodcare there that he sucks no blood out of them; for, although an Americanwould always rather lose a drop of blood than a dollar, they keep apretty sharp look out upon both. "

"The proposal can be made to him, " said Henry, "at all events. It is onewhich I don't dislike, and probably one that he would embrace at once;because he seems, to me, to have completely done with ambition, and tohave abandoned those projects concerning which, at one time, he tooksuch a world of trouble. "

"Don't you trust to that, " said the admiral. "What's bred in the bonedon't so easily get out of the flesh; and once or twice, when MasterVarney has been talking, I have seen those odd looking eyes of his flashup for a moment, as if he were quite ready to begin his old capersagain, and alarm the whole country side. "

"I must confess, " said Charles Holland, that I myself have had theimpression once or twice that Varney was only subdued for a time, andthat, with a proper amount of provocation, he would become again a veryserious fellow, and to the full as troublesome as he has been. "

"Do you doubt his sincerity?" said Henry. 

"No, I do not do that, Henry: I think Varney fully means what he says;but I think, at the same time, that he has for so long lead a strange, wild, and reckless life, that he will find it very far from easy, ifindeed possible, to shake off his old habits and settle down quietly, ifnot to say comfortably. "

"I regret, " said Henry, "that you have such an impression; but, while Ido so, I cannot help admitting that it is, to a considerable extent, nomore than a reasonable one; and perhaps, after all, my expectation thatVarney will give us no more trouble, only amounts to a hope that he willnot do so, and nothing more. But let us consider; there seems to be someslight difference of opinion among us, as to whether we should take upour residence at this new house of ours, which we did not know we owned, at Dearbrook, or proceed to London, and there establish ourselves, oragain return to Bannerworth Hall, and, by a judicious expenditure ofsome money, make that a more habitable place than it has been for thelast twenty years. "

"Now, I'll tell you what, " said the admiral, "I would do. It's quite outof the question for any body to live long unless they see a ship; don'tyou think so, Miss Flora?"

"Why, how can you ask Flora such a question, uncle, " said CharlesHolland, "when you know she don't care a straw about ships, and onlylooks upon admirals as natural curiosities?"

"Excepting one, " said Flora, "and he is an admiral who is natural but nocuriosity, unless it he that you, can call him such because he is sojust and generous, and, as for ships, who can help admiring them; and ifAdmiral Bell proposes that we live in some pleasant, marine villa by thesea-coast, he shall have my vote and interest for the proceeding. "

"Bravo! Huzza!" cried the admiral. "I tell you what it is, MasterCharley--you horse marine, --I have a great mind to cut you out, and haveMiss Flora myself. "

"Don't, uncle, " said Charles; "that would be so very cruel, after shehas promised me so faithfully. How do you suppose I should like it; comenow, be merciful. "

At this moment, and before any one could make another remark, there camerather a sharp ring at the garden-gate bell, and Henry exclaimed, --

"That's Mr. Chillingworth, and I am glad he has come in time to join ourconference. His advice is always valuable; and, moreover, I rather thinkhe will bring us some news worth the hearing. "

The one servant who they had to wait upon them looked into the room, andsaid, --"If you please, here is Mrs. Chillingworth. "

"Mistress? you mean Mr. "

"No; it is Mrs. Chillingworth and her baby. "

"The devil!" said the admiral; "what can she want?"

"I'll come and let you know, " said Mrs. Chillingworth, "what I want;"and she darted into the room past the servant. "I'll soon let you know, you great sea crab. I want my husband; and what with your vampyre, andone thing and another, I haven't had him at home an hour for the pastthree weeks. What am I to do? There is all his patients getting well asfast as they can without him; and, when they find that out, do you thinkthey will take any more filthy physic? No, to be sure not; people ain'tsuch fools as to do anything of the sort. "

"I'll tell you what we will do, ma'am, " said the admiral; "we'll all getill at once, on purpose to oblige ye; and I'll begin by having themeasles. "

"You are an old porpoise, and I believe it all owing to you that myhusband neglects his wife and family. What's vampyres to him, I shouldlike to know, that he should go troubling about them? I never heard ofvampyres taking draughts and pills. "

"No, nor any body else that had the sense of a goose, " said the admiral;"but if it's your husband you want, ma'am, it's no use your looking forhim here, for here he is not. "

"Then where is he? He is running after some of your beastly vampyressomewhere, I'll be bound, and you know where to send for him. "

"Then you are mistaken; for, indeed, we don't. We want him ourselves, ma'am, and can't find him--that's the fact. "

"It's all very well talking, sir, but if you were a married woman, witha family about you, and the last at the breast, you'd feel verydifferent from what you do now. "

"I'm d----d if I don't suppose I should, " said the admiral; "but as forthe last, ma'am, I'd soon settle that. I'd wring its neck, and shove itoverboard. "

"You would, you brute? It's quite clear to me you never had a child ofyour own. "

"Mrs. Chillingworth, " said Henry, "I think you have no right to complainto us of your domestic affairs. Where your husband goes, and what hedoes, is at his own will and pleasure, and, really, I don't see that weare to be made answerable as to whether he is at home or abroad; to saynothing of the bad taste--and bad taste it most certainly is, of talkingof your private affairs to other people. "

"Oh, dear!" said Mrs. Chillingworth; "that's your idea, is it, youno-whiskered puppy?"

"Really, madam, I cannot see what my being destitute of whiskers has todo with the affair; and I am inclined to think my opinion is quite asgood without them as with them. "

"I will speak, " said Flora, "to the doctor, when I see him. "

"Will you, Miss Doll's-eyes? Oh, dear me! you'll speak to the doctor, will you?"

"What on earth do you want?" said Henry. "For your husband's sake, whomwe all respect, we wish to treat you with every imaginable civility; butwe tell you, candidly, that he is not here, and, therefore, we cannotconceive what more you can require of us. "

"Oh, it's a row, " said the admiral; "that's what she wants--woman like. D----d a bit do they care what it's about as long as there's adisturbance. And now, ma'am, will you sit down and have a glass ofgrog?"

"No, I will not sit down; and all I can say is, that I look upon thisplace as a den full of snakes and reptiles. That's my opinion; so I'llnot stay any longer; but, wishing that great judgments may some day comehome to you all, and that you may know what it is to be a mother, withfive babies, and one at the breast, I despise you all and leave you. "

So saying, Mrs. Chillingworth walked from the place, feeling herselfhighly hurt and offended at what had ensued; and they were compelled tolet her go just as she was, without giving her any information, for theyhad a vivid recollection of the serious disturbance she had created on aformer occasion, when she had actually headed a mob, for the purpose ofhunting out Varney, the vampyre, from Bannerworth Hall, and putting anend consequently, as she considered, to that set of circumstances whichkept the doctor so much from his house, to the great detriment of a notvery extensive practice. 

"After all, " said Flora, "Mrs. Chillingworth, although she is not themost refined person in the world, is to be pitied. "

"What!" cried the admiral; "Miss Doll's-eyes, are you taking her part?"

"Oh, that's nothing. She may call me what she likes. "

"I believe she is a good wife to the doctor, " said Henry, "notwithstanding his little eccentricities; but suppose we now at oncemake the proposal we were thinking of to Sir Francis Varney, and so gethim to leave England as quickly as possible and put an end to thepossibility of his being any more trouble to anybody. "

"Agreed--agreed. It's the best thing that can be done, and it will besomething gained to get his consent at once. "

"I'll run up stairs to him, " said Charles, "and call him down at once. Iscarcely doubt for a moment his acquiescence in the proposal. "

Charles Holland rose, and ran up the little staircase of the cottage tothe room which, by the kindness of the Bannerworth family, had beendevoted to the use of Varney. He had not been gone above two minutes, when he returned, hastily, with a small scrap of paper in his hand, which he laid before Henry, saying, --

"There, what think you of that?"

Henry, upon taking up the paper, saw written upon it the words, --

"_The Farewell of Varney the Vampyre_. "

"He is gone, " said Charles Holland. "The room is vacant. I saw at aglance that he had removed his hat, and cloak, and all that belonged tohim. He's off, and at so short a warning, and in so abrupt a manner, that I fear the worst. "

"What can you fear?"

"I scarcely know what; but we have a right to fear everything andanything from his most inexplicable being, whose whole conduct has beenof that mysterious nature, as to put him past all calculation as regardshis motives, his objects, or his actions. I must confess that I wouldhave hailed his departure from England with feelings of satisfaction;but what he means now, by this strange manoeuvre, Heaven, and his ownsingular intellect, can alone divine. "

"I must confess, " said Flora, "I should not at all have thought this ofVarney. It seems to me as if something new must have occurred to him. Altogether, I do not feel any alarm concerning his actions as regardsus. I am convinced of his sincerity, and, therefore, do not view withsensations of uneasiness this new circumstance, which appears at presentso inexplicable, but for which we may yet get some explanation that willbe satisfactory to us all. "

"I cannot conceive, " said Henry, "what new circumstances could haveoccurred to produce this effect upon Varney. Things remain just as theywere; and, after all, situated as he is, if any change had taken placein matters out of doors, I do not see how he could become acquaintedwith them, so that his leaving must have been a matter of merecalculation, or of impulse at the moment--Heaven knows which--but canhave nothing to do with actual information, because it is quite evidenthe could not get it. "

"It is rather strange, " said Charles Holland, "that just as we werespeculating upon the probability of his doing something of this sort, heshould suddenly do it, and in this singular manner too. "

"Oh, " said the old admiral, "I told you I saw his eye, that was enoughfor me. I knew he would do something, as well as I know a mainmast froma chain cable. He can't help it; it's in the nature of the beast, andthat's all you can say about it. "

CHAPTER XCII. 

THE MISADVENTURE OF THE DOCTOR WITH THE PICTURE. 

The situation of Dr. Chillingworth and Jack Pringle was not of thatcharacter that permitted much conversation or even congratulation. Theywere victors it was true, and yet they had but little to boast ofbesides the victory. 

Victory is a great thing; it is like a gilded coat, it bewilders anddazzles. Nobody can say much when you are victorious. What a sound! andyet how much misery is there not hidden beneath it. 

This victory of the worthy doctor and his aid amounted to this, theywere as they were before, without being any better, but much the worse, seeing they were so much buffetted that they could hardly speak, but satfor some moments opposite to each other, gasping for breath, and staringeach other in the face without speaking. 

The moonlight came in through the window and fell upon the floor, andthere were no sounds that came to disturb the stillness of the scene, nor any object that moved to cast a shadow upon the floor. All was stilland motionless, save the two victors, who were much distressed andbruised. 

"Well!" said Jack Pringle, with a hearty execration, as he wiped hisface with the back of his hand; "saving your presence, doctor, we aremasters of the field, doctor; but it's plaguey like capturing an emptybandbox after a hard fight. "

"But we have got the picture, Jack--we have got the picture, you see, and that is something. I am sure we saved that. "

"Well, that may be; and a pretty d----d looking picture it is after all. Why, it's enough to frighten a lady into the sulks. I think it would bea very good thing if it were burned. "

"Well, " said the doctor, "I would sooner see it burned than in the handsof that--"

"What?" exclaimed Jack. 

"I don't know, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "but thief I should say, for itwas somewhat thief-like to break into another man's house and carry offthe furniture. "

"A pirate--a regular land shark. "

"Something that is not the same as an honest man, Jack; but, at allevents, we have beaten him back this time. "

"Yes, " said Jack, "the ship's cleared; no company is better than badcompany, doctor. "

"So it is, and yet it don't seem clear in terms. But, Jack, it youhadn't come in time, I should have been but scurvily treated. He was toopowerful for me; I was as nigh being killed as ever I have been; but youwere just in time to save me. "

"Well, he was a large, ugly fellow, sure enough, and looked like an oldtree. "

"Did you see him?"

"Yes, to be sure I did. "

"Well, I could not catch a glimpse of his features. In fact, I was toomuch employed to see anything, and it was much too dark to noticeanything particular, even if I had had leisure. "

"Why, you had as much to do as you could well manage, I must say that, at all events. I didn't see much of him myself; only he was a tall, out-of-the-way sort of chap--a long-legged shark. He gave me such a digor two as I haven't had for a long while, nor don't want to get again;though I don't care if I face the devil himself. A man can't do morethan do his best, doctor. "

"No, Jack; but there are very few who do do their best, and that's thetruth. You have, and have done it to some purpose too. But I have hadenough for one day; he was almost strong enough to contend against usboth. "

"Yes, so he was. "

"And, besides that, he almost carried away the picture--that was a greathindrance to him. Don't you think we could have held him if we had notbeen fighting over the picture?"

"Yes, to be sure we could; we could have gone at him bodily, and heldhim. He would not have been able to use his hands. We could have hung onhim, and I am sure if I came to grapple yard-arm and yard-arm, he wouldhave told a different tale; however, that is neither here nor there. Howlong had you been here?"

"Not very long, " replied the doctor, whose head was a little confused bythe blows which he had received. "I can't now tell how long, but only ashort time, I think. "

"Where did he come from?" inquired Jack. 

"Come from, Jack?"

"Yes, doctor, where did he came from?--the window, I suppose--the sameway he went out, I dare say--it's most likely. "

"Oh, no, no; he come down from behind the picture. There's some mysteryin that picture, I'll swear to it; it's very strange he should make sucha desperate attempt to carry it away. "

"Yes; one would think, " said Jack, there was more in it than we cansee--that it is worth more than we can believe; perhaps somebody setsparticular store by it. "

"I don't know, " said Mr. Chillingworth, shaking his head, "I don't knowhow that may be; but certain it is, the picture was the object of hisvisit here--that is very certain. "

"It was; he was endeavouring to carry it off, " said Jack; "it would be avery good ornament to the black hole at Calcutta. "

"The utility of putting it where it cannot be seen, " remarked Mr. Chillingworth, "I cannot very well see; though I dare say it might beall very well. "

"Yes--its ugly features would be no longer seen; so far, it would be agood job. But are you going to remain here all night, and so make a longwatch of it, doctor?"

"Why, Jack, " said the doctor, "I did intend watching here; but now thegame is disturbed, it is of no use remaining here. We have secured thepicture, and now there will be no need of remaining in the house; infact, there is no fear of robbery now. "

"Not so long as we are here, " said Jack Pringle; "the smugglers won'tshow a head while the revenue cutter is on the look out. "

"Certainly not, Jack, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "I think we have scaredthem away--the picture is safe. "

"Yes--so long as we are here. "

"And longer, too, I hope. "

Jack shook his head, as much as to intimate that he had many doubts uponsuch a point, and couldn't be hurried into any concession of opinion ofthe safety of such a picture as that--much as he disliked it, and aspoor an opinion as he had of it. 

"Don't you think it will be safe?"

"No, " said Jack. 

"And why not?" said Mr. Chillingworth, willing to hear what Jack couldadvance against the opinion he had expressed, especially as he haddisturbed the marauder in the very act of robbery. 

"Why, you'll be watched by this very man; and when you are gone, he willreturn in safety, and take this plaguey picture away with him. "

"Well, he might do so, " said Mr. Chillingworth, after some thought; "heeven endangered his own escape for the purpose of carrying it off. "

"He wants it, " said Jack. 

"What, the picture?"

"Aye, to be sure; do you think anybody would have tried so hard to getaway with it? He wants it; and the long and the short of it is, he willhave it, despite all that can be done to prevent it; that's my opinion. "

"Well, there is much truth in that; but what to do I don't know. "

"Take it to the cottage, " suggested Jack. "The picture must be more thanwe think for; suppose we carry it along. "

"That is no bad plan of yours, Jack, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "and, though a little awkward, yet it is not the worst I have heard;but--but--what will they say, when they see this frightful face in thatquiet, yet contented house?"

"Why, they'll say you brought it, " said Jack; "I don't see what elsethey can say, but that you have done well; besides, when you come toexplain, you will make the matter all right to 'em. "

"Yes, yes, " said Chillingworth; "and, as the picture now seems to be theincomprehensible object of attack, I will secure that, at all events. "

"I'll help you. "

"Thank you, Jack; your aid will be welcome; at least, it was so justnow. "

"All right, doctor, " said Jack. "I may be under your hands some day. "

"I'll physic you for nothing, " said Mr. Chillingworth. "You saved mylife. One good turn deserves another; I'll not forget. "

"Thank you, " said Jack, as he made a wry face. "I hope you won't haveoccasion. I'd sooner have a can of grog than any bottle of medicine youcan give me; I ain't ungrateful, neither. "

"You needn't name it; I am getting my breath again. I suppose we hadbetter leave this place, as soon as we conveniently can. "

"Exactly. The sooner the better; we can take it the more leisurely as wego. "

The moon was up; there were no clouds now, but there was not a verystrong light, because the moon was on the wane. It was one of thosenights during which an imperceptible vapour arises, and renders the moonsomewhat obscure, or, at least, it robs the earth of her rays; and thenthere were shadows cast by the moon, yet they grew fainter, and thosecast upon the floor of the apartment were less distinct than at first. 

There seemed scarce a breath of air stirring; everything was quiet andstill; no motion--no sound, save that of the breathing of the two whosat in that mysterious apartment, who gazed alternately round the place, and then in each other's countenances. Suddenly, the silence of thenight was disturbed by a very slight, but distinct noise, which struckupon them with peculiar distinctness; it was a gentle tap, tap, at thewindow, as if some one was doing it with their fingernail. 

They gazed on each other, for some moments, in amazement, and then atthe window, but they saw nothing; and yet, had there been anything, theymust have seen it, but there was not even a shadow. 

"Well, " said Mr. Chillingworth, after he had listened to the tap, tap, several times, without being able to find out or imagine what it couldarise from, "what on earth can it be?"

"Don't know, " said Jack, very composedly, squinting up at the window. "Can't see anything. "

"Well, but it must be something, " persisted Mr. Chillingworth; "it mustbe something. "

"I dare say it is; but I don't see anything. I can't think what it canbe, unless--"

"Unless what? Speak out, " said the doctor, impatiently. 

"Why, unless it is Davy Jones himself, tapping with his longfinger-nails, a-telling us as how we've been too long already here. "

"Then, I presume, we may as well go; and yet I am more disposed to deemit some device of the enemy to dislodge us from this place, for thepurpose of enabling them to effect some nefarious scheme or other theyhave afloat. "

"It may be, and is, I dare say, a do of some sort or other, " said Jack;"but what' can it be?"

"There it is again, " said the doctor; "don't you hear it? I can, asplain as I can hear myself. "

"Yes, " said Jack; "I can hear it plain enough, and can see it, too; andthat is more. Yes, yes, I can tell all about it plain enough. "

"You can? Well, then, shew me, " said the doctor, as he strode up to thewindow, before which Jack was standing gazing upon one particular spotof the shattered window with much earnestness. 

"Where is it?"

"Look there, " said Jack, pointing with his finger to a particular spot, to which the doctor directed his attention, expecting to see a long, skinny hand tapping against the glass; but he saw nothing. 

"Where is it?"

"Do you see that twig of ivy, or something of the sort?" inquired Jack. 

"Yes, I do. "

"Very well, watch that; and when the wind catches it--and there is butvery little--it lifts it up, and then, falling down again, it taps theglass. "

Just as he spoke, there came a slight gust of wind; and it gave apractical illustration to his words; for the tapping was heard as oftenas the plant was moved by the wind. 

"Well, " said Mr. Chillingworth, "however simple and unimportant thematter may be, yet I cannot but say I am always well pleased to find apractical explanation of it, so that there will be no part left indoubt. "

"There is none about that, " said Jack. 

"None. Well, we are not beset, then. We may as well consider of themanner of our getting clear of this place. What sort of burthen thispicture may be I know not; but I will make the attempt to carry it. "

"Avast, there, " said Jack; "I will carry it: at all events, I'll takethe first spell, and, if I can't go on, we'll turn and turn about. "

"We can divide the weight from the first, and then neither of us will betired at all. "

"Just as you please, sir, " said Jack Pringle. "I am willing to obeyorders; and, if we are to get in to-night before they are all a-bed, wehad better go at once; and then we shall not disturb them. "

"Good, Jack, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "very good: let us begin to beatour retreat at once. "

"Very good, " said Jack. 

They both rose and approached the picture, which stood up in one corner, half reclining against the wall; the light, at least so much as therewas, fell upon it, and gave it a ghastly and deathly hue, which made Mr. Chillingworth feel an emotion he could not at all understand; but, assoon as he could, he withdrew his eyes from off the picture, and theyproceeded to secure it with some cord, so that they might carry itbetween them the easier--with less trouble and more safety. 

These preparations did not take long in making, and, when completed, they gave another inquiring look round the chamber, and Mr. Chillingworth again approached the window, and gazed out upon the gardenbelow, but saw nothing to attract his attention. 

Turning away, he came to the picture, with which Jack Pringle had beenstanding. They proceeded towards the stairs, adopting every precautionthey could take to prevent any surprise and any attempt upon the objectof their solicitude. 

Then they came to the great hall, and, having opened the door, theycarried it out; then shutting the door, they both stood outside ofBannerworth Hall; and, before taking the picture up in their hands, theyonce more looked suspiciously around them. 

There was nothing to be seen, and so, shouldering the ominous portrait, they proceeded along the garden till they conveyed it into the roadway. 

"Now, " said Jack, "we are off; we can scud along under press of sail, you know. "

"I would rather not, " said the doctor, "for two reasons; one of whichis, I can't do it myself, and the other is, we should run the risk ofinjuring the picture; besides this, there is no reason for so doing. "

"Very well, " said Jack, "make it agreeable to yourself, doctor. See you, Jack's alive, and I am willing to do all I can to help you. "

"I am very glad of your aid, " said Mr. Chillingworth; "so we willproceed slowly. I shall be glad when we are there; for there are fewthings more awkward than this picture to carry. "

"It is not heavy, " said Jack, giving it a hitch up, that first pulledthe doctor back, and then pushed him forward again. 

"No; but stop, don't do that often, Jack, or else I shall be obliged tolet go, to save myself from falling, " said the doctor. 

"Very sorry, " said Jack; "hope it didn't inconvenience you; but I couldcarry this by myself. "

"And so could I, " returned Mr. Chillingworth; "but the probability isthere would be some mischief done to it, and then we should be doingmore harm than good. "

"So we should, " said Jack. 

They proceeded along with much care and caution. It was growing latenow, and no one was about--at least, they met none. People did not roamabout much after dark, especially since the reports of the vampyrebecame current, for, notwithstanding all their bravery and violencewhile in a body, yet to meet and contend with him singly, and unseen, was not at all a popular notion among them; indeed, they would sooner goa mile out of their way, or remain in doors, which they usually did. 

The evening was not precisely dark, there was moonlight enough to saveit from that, but there was a mist hanging about, that rendered objects, at a short distance, very indistinct. 

Their walk was uninterrupted by any one, and they had got through halfthe distance without any disturbance or interruption whatever. 

When they arrived at the precincts of the village, Jack Pringle said toDr. Chillingworth, "Do you intend going through the village, doctor?"

"Why not? there will be nobody about, and if there should be, we shallbe safe enough from any molestation, seeing there are none here whowould dare to harm us; it is the shortest way, too. "

"Very good, " said Jack; "I am agreeable, and as for any one harming me, they know better; but, at all events, there's company, and there's lessdanger, you know, doctor; though I'm always company to myself, buthaven't any objection to a messmate, now and then. "

They pursued their way in silence, for some distance, the doctor notcaring about continuing the talk of Jack, which amounted to nothing;besides, he had too much to do, for, notwithstanding the lightness ofthe picture, which Jack had endeavoured to persuade the doctor of, hefound it was heavy and ungainly; indeed, had he been by himself he wouldhave had some trouble to have got it away. 

"We are nearly there, " said Jack, putting down his end of the picture, which brought Doctor Chillingworth to a standstill. 

"Yes, we are; but what made you stop?"

"Why, you see, " said Jack, giving his trowsers a hitch, "as I saidbefore, we are nearly there. "

"Well, what of that? we intended to go there, did we not?" inquiredChillingworth. 

"Yes, exactly; that is, you intended to do so, I know, but I didn't. "

"What do you mean by that?" inquired Chillingworth; "you are a completeriddle to-night, Jack; what is the matter with you?"

"Nothing; only, you see, I don't want to go into the cottage, 'cause, you see, the admiral and I have had what you may call a bit of a growl, and I am in disgrace there a little, though I don't know why, orwherefore; I always did my duty by him, as I did by my country. The ouldman, however, takes fits into his head; at the same time I shall takesome too; Jack's as good as his master, ashore, at all events. "

"Well, then, you object to go in?" said Chillingworth. 

"That is the state of the case; not that I'm afraid, or have any causeto be ashamed of myself; but I don't want to make anybody elseuncomfortable, by causing black looks. "

"Very well, Jack, " said the doctor. "I am much obliged to you, and, ifyou don't like to come, I won't press you against your inclination. "

"I understand, doctor. I will leave you here, if you can manage the restof the way by yourself; there are not two hundred yards now to go, soyou are all safe; so good bye. "

"Good bye, Jack, " said Doctor Chillingworth, who stood wiping hisforehead, whilst the picture was standing up against the poles. 

"Do you want a hand up first?"

"No, thank you; I can get it up very well without any trouble--it's notso heavy. "

"Good bye, then, " said Jack; and, in a few moments more, Jack Pringlewas out of sight, and the doctor was alone with the ominous picture. Hehad not far to go, and was within hail of the cottage; but it was late, and yet he believed he should find them up, for the quietude andcalmness of the evening hour was that which most chimed with theirfeelings. At such a time they could look out upon the face of nature, and the freedom of thought appeared the greater, because there was nohuman being to clash with the silence and stillness of the scene. 

"Well, " muttered Chillingworth, "I'll go at once to the cottage with myburthen. How they will look at me, and wonder what could induce me tobring this away. I can hardly help smiling at the thought of how theywill look at the apparition I shall make. "

Thus filled with notions that appeared to please him, the doctorshouldered the picture, and walked slowly along until he reached thedead wall that ran up to the entrance, or nearly so, of the gardens. 

There was a plantation of young trees that overhung the path, and cast adeep shadow below--a pleasant spot in hot weather. 

The doctor had been carrying the picture, resting the side of it on thesmall of his arm, and against his shoulder; but this was an inconvenientposture, because the weight of the picture cut his arm so much, that hewas compelled to pause, and shift it more on his shoulder. 

"There, " he muttered, "that will do for the present, and last until Ireach the cottage garden. "

He was proceeding along at a slow and steady pace, bestowing all hiscare and attention to the manner of holding the picture, when he wassuddenly paralysed by the sound of a great shout of such a peculiarcharacter, that he involuntarily stopped, and the next moment, somethingheavy came against him with great force, just as if a man had jumpedfrom the wall on to him. 

This was the truth, for, in another moment, and before he could recoverhimself, he found that there was an attempt to deprive him of thepicture. 

This at once aroused him, and he made an instant and a vigorous defence;but he was compelled to let go his hold of the picture, and turn toresist the infuriated attack that was now commenced upon himself. 

For some moments it was doubtful who would be the victor; but the windand strength of the doctor were not enough to resist the powerfuladversary against whom he had to contend, and the heavy blows that wereshowered down upon him. 

At first he was enabled to bear up against this attack; and then hereturned many of the blows with interest; but the stunning effect of theblows he received himself, was such that he could not help himself, andfelt his senses gradually failing, his strength becoming less and less. 

In a short time, he received such a blow, that he was laid senseless onthe earth in an instant. 

How long he remained thus he could not say; but it could not have beenlong, for all around him seemed just as it was before he was attacked. 

The moon had scarcely moved, and the shadows, such as they were, werefalling in the same direction as before. 

"I have not been long here, " he muttered, after a few moments'reflection; "but--but--"

He stopped short; for, on looking around him, he saw the object of hissolicitude was gone. The picture was nowhere to be seen. It had beencarried off the instant he had been vanquished. 

"Gone!" he said, in a low, disconsolate tone; "and after all I havedone!"

He wiped his hand across his brow, and finding it cut, he looked at theback of his hand, and saw by the deep colour that it was blood, indeed, he could now feel it trickle down his face. 

What to do he hardly knew; he could stand, and after having got upon hisfeet, he staggered hack against the wall, against which he leaned forsupport, and afterwards he crept along with the aid of its support, until he came to the door. 

He was observed from the window, where Henry and Charles Holland, seeinghim come up with such an unsteady gait, rushed to the door to ascertainwhat was the matter. 

"What, doctor!" exclaimed Henry Bannerworth; "what is the matter?"

"I am almost dead, I think, " said Chillingworth. "Lend me your arm, Henry. "

Henry and Charles Holland immediately stepped out, and took him betweenthem into the parlour, and placed him upon a couch. 

"What on earth has happened, doctor?--have you got into disgrace withthe populace?"

"No, no; give me some drink--some water, I am very faint--very faint. "

"Give him some wine, or, what's better, some grog, " said the admiral. "Why, he's been yard-arm with some pirate or other, and he's damagedabout the figure-head. You ain't hurt in your lower works, are you, doctor?" said the admiral. 

But the doctor took no notice of the inquiry; but eagerly sipped thecontents of a glass that Charles Holland had poured out of a bottlecontaining some strong Hollands, and which appeared to nerve him much. 

"There!" said the admiral, "that will do you good. How did all thisdamage to your upper works come about, eh?"

"Let him wash his face and hands first; he will be better able to talkafterwards. "

"Oh, thank you, " said Chillingworth. "I am much better; but I have hadsome hard bruises. "

"How did it happen?"

"I went by myself to watch in the room where the picture was inBannerworth Hall. "

"Where the picture was!" said Henry; "where it is, you mean, do you not, doctor?"

"No; where it was, and where it is not now. "

"Gone!"

"Yes, gone away; I'll tell you all about it. I went there to watch, butfound nobody or nothing there; but suddenly a man stepped out frombehind the picture, and we had a fight over it; after which, just as Iwas getting the worst of it, Jack Pringle came in. "

"The dog!" muttered the admiral. 

"Yes, he came in just in time, I believe, to save my life; for the man, whoever he was, would not have hesitated about it. "

"Well, Jack is a good man, " said the admiral; "there may be worse, atleast. "

"Well, we had a desperate encounter for some minutes, during which thisfellow wanted to carry off the picture. "

"Carry off the picture?"

"Yes; we had a struggle for that; but we could not capture him; he wasso violent that he broke away and got clear off. "

"With the picture?"

"No, he left the picture behind. Well, we were very tired and bruised, and we sat down to recover ourselves from our fatigue, and to considerwhat was best to be done; but we were some time before we could leave, and then we determined that we would take the picture away with us, asit seemed to be coveted by the robber, for what object we cannot tell. "

"Well, well--where is the picture?"

"You shall hear all about it in a minute, if you'll let me take my time. I am tired and sore. Well, we brought the picture out, and Jack helpedme carry it till he came within a couple of hundred yards of thecottage, and there left me. "

"The lubber!" said the admiral, interjectionally. 

"Well, I rested awhile, and then taking the picture on my shoulders, Iproceeded along with it until I came to the wall, when suddenly I hearda great shout, and then down came something heavy upon me, just as if aman had jumped down upon me. "

"And--and--"

"Yes, " said the doctor, "it was--"

"Was what?" inquired the admiral. 

"Just what you all seemed to anticipate; you are all before me, but thatwas it. "

"A man?"

"Yes; I had a struggle with him, and got nearly killed, for I am notequal to him in strength. I was sadly knocked about, and finally all thesenses were knocked out of me, and I was, I suppose, left for dead. "

"And what became of the picture?"

"I don't know; but I suppose it was taken away, as, when I came tomyself, it was gone; indeed, I have some faint recollection of seeinghim seize the portrait as I was falling. "

There was a pause of some moments, during which all the party appearedto be employed with their own thoughts, and the whole were silent. 

"Do you think it was the same man who attacked you in the house thatobtained the picture?" at last inquired Henry Bannerworth. 

"I cannot say, but I think it most probable that it was the same;indeed, the general appearance, as near as I could tell in the dark, wasthe same; but what I look upon as much stronger is, the object appearsto be the same in both cases. "

"That is very true, " said Henry Bannerworth--"very true; and I think itmore than probable myself. But come, doctor, you will require rest andnursing after your dangers. "

CHAPTER XCIII. 

THE ALARM AT ANDERBURY. --THE SUSPICIONS OF THE BANNERWORTH FAMILY, ANDTHE MYSTERIOUS COMMUNICATION. 

[Illustration]

About twenty miles to the southward of Bannerworth Hall was a good-sizedmarket-town, called Anderbury. It was an extensive and flourishingplace, and from the beauty of its situation, and its contiguity to thesouthern coast of England, it was much admired; and, in consequence, numerous mansions and villas of great pretension had sprang up in itsimmediate neighbourhood. 

Betides, there were some estates of great value, and one of these, called Anderbury-on-the-Mount, in consequence of the mansion itself, which was of an immense extent, being built upon an eminence, was to belet, or sold. 

This town of Anderbury was remarkable not only for the beauty of itsaspect, but likewise for the quiet serenity of its inhabitants, who werea prosperous, thriving race, and depended very much upon their ownresources. 

There were some peculiar circumstances why Anderbury-on-the-Mount was tolet. It had been for a great number of years in possession of a familyof the name of Milltown, who had resided there in great comfort andrespectability, until an epidemic disorder broke out, first among theservants, and then spreading to the junior branches of the family, andfrom them to their seniors, produced such devastation, that in thecourse of three weeks there was but one young man left of the wholefamily, and he, by native vigour of constitution, had baffled thedisorder, and found himself alone in his ancestral halls, the last ofhis race. 

Soon a settled melancholy took possession of him, and all that hadformerly delighted him now gave him pain, inasmuch as it brought to hismind a host of recollections of the most agonising character. 

In vain was it that the surrounding gentry paid him every possibleattention, and endeavoured to do all that was in their power toalleviate the unhappy circumstances in which he was placed. If hesmiled, it was in a sad sort, and that was very seldom; and at length heannounced his intention of leaving the neighbourhood, and seekingabroad, and in change of scene, for that solace which he could notexpect to find in his ancestral home, after what had occurred within itsancient walls. 

There was not a chamber but which reminded him of the past--there wasnot a tree or a plant of any kind or description but which spoke to himplainly of those who were now no more, and whose merry laughter hadwithin his own memory made that ancient place echo with glee, fillingthe sunny air with the most gladsome shouts, such as come from the lipsof happy youth long before the world has robbed it of any of its romanceor its beauty. 

There was a general feeling of regret when this young man announced thefact of his departure to a foreign land; for he was much respected, andthe known calamities which he had suffered, and the grief under which helaboured, invested his character with a great and painful interest. 

An entertainment was given to him upon the eve of his departure, and onthe next day he was many miles from the place, and the estate ofAnderbury-on-the-Mount was understood to be sold or let. 

The old mansion had remained, then, for a year or two vacant, for it wasa place of too much magnitude, and required by far too expensive anestablishment to keep it going, to enable any person whose means werenot very large to think of having anything to do with it. 

So, therefore, it remained unlet, and wearing that gloomy aspect which alarge house, untenanted, so very quickly assumes. 

It was quite a melancholy thing to look upon it, and to think what itmust have once been, and what it might be still, compared to what itactually was; and the inhabitants of the neighbourhood had made up theirminds that Anderbury-on-the-Mount would remain untenanted for many ayear to come, and, perhaps, ultimately fall into ruin and decay. 

But in this they were doomed to be disappointed, for, on the evening ofa dull and gloomy day, about one week after the events we have recordedas taking place at Bannerworth Hall and its immediate neighbourhood, atravelling carriage, with four horses and an out-rider, came dashinginto the place, and drew up at the principal inn in the town, which wascalled the Anderbury Arms. 

The appearance of such an equipage, although not the most unusual thingin the world, in consequence of the many aristocratic families whoresided in the neighbourhood, caused, at all events, some sensation, and, perhaps, the more so because it drove up to the inn instead of toany of the mansions of the neighbourhood, thereby showing that thestranger, whoever he was, came not as a visitor, but either merelybaited in the town, being on his road somewhere else, or had somespecial business in it which would soon be learned. 

The out-rider, who was in handsome livery, had gallopped on in advanceof the carriage a short distance, for the purpose of ordering the bestapartments in the inn to be immediately prepared for the reception ofhis master. 

"Who is he?" asked the landlord. 

"It's the Baron Stolmuyer Saltsburgh. "

"Bless my heart, I never heard of him before; where did he comefrom--somewhere abroad I suppose?"

"I can't tell you anything of him further than that he is immenselyrich, and is looking for a house. He has heard that there is one to letin this immediate neighbourhood, and that's what has brought him fromLondon, I suppose. "

"Yes, there is one; and it is called Anderbury-on-the-Mount. "

"Well, he will very likely speak to you about it himself, for here hecomes. "

By this time the carriage had halted at the door of the hotel, and, thedoor being opened, and the steps lowered, there alighted from it a tallman attired in a kind of pelisse, or cloak, trimmed with rich fur, thebody of it being composed of velvet. Upon his head he wore a travellingcap, and his fingers, as he grasped the cloak around him, were seen tobe covered with rings of great value. 

Such a personage, coming in such style, was, of course, likely to behonoured in every possible way by the landlord of the inn, andaccordingly he was shown most obsequiously to the handsomest apartmentin the house, and the whole establishment was put upon the alert toattend to any orders he might choose to give. 

He had not been long in the place when he sent for the landlord, who, hastily scrambling on his best coat, and getting his wife to arrange thetie of his neckcloth, proceeded to obey the orders of his illustriousguest, whatever they might chance to be. 

He found the Baron Stolmuyer reclining upon a sofa, and having thrownaside his velvet cloak, trimmed with rich fur, he showed that underneathit he wore a costume of great richness and beauty, although, certainly, the form it covered was not calculated to set it off to any greatadvantage, for the baron was merely skin and bone, and looked like a manwho had just emerged from a long illness, for his face was ghastly pale, and the landlord could not help observing that there was a strangepeculiarity about his eyes, the reason of which he could not make out. 

"You are the landlord of this inn, I presume, " said the baron, "and, consequently, no doubt well acquainted with the neighbourhood?"

"I have the honour to be all that, sir. I have been here about sixteenyears, and in that time I certainly ought to know something of theneighbourhood. "

"'Tis well; some one told me there was a little cottage sort of place tolet here, and as I am simple and retired in my habits I thought that itmight possibly suit me. "

"A little cottage, sir! There are certainly little cottages to let, butnot such as would suit you; and if I might have presumed, sir, to think, I should have considered Anderbury-on-the-Mount, which is now to let, would have been the place for you. It is a large place, sir, andbelonged to a good family, although they are now all dead and gone, except one, and it's he who wants to let the old place. "

"Anderbury-on-the-Mount, " said the baron, "was the name of the placementioned to me; but I understood it was a little place. "

"Oh! sir, that is quite a mistake; who told you so? It's the largestplace about here; there are a matter of twenty-seven rooms in it, and itstands altogether upon three hundred acres of ground. "

"And have you the assurance, " said the baron, "to call that anything buta cottage, when the castle of the Stolmuyers, at Saltzburgh, has onesuite of reception rooms thirty in number, opening into each other, andthe total number of apartments in the and whole building is two hundredand sixty, it is surrounded by eight miles of territory. "

"The devil!" said the landlord. "I beg your pardon, sir, but when I amastonished, I generally say the devil. They want eight hundred pounds ayear for Anderbury-on-the-Mount. "

"A mere trifle. I will sleep here to-night, and in the morning I will goand look at the place. It is near the sea?"

"Half a mile, sir, exactly, from the beach; and one of the most curiouscircumstances of all connected with it is, that there is a subterraneanpassage from the grounds leading right away down to the sea-coast. Amost curious place, sir, partly cut out of the cliff, with cellars in itfor wine, and other matters, that in the height of summer are kept ascool as in the deep winter time. It's more for curiosity than use, sucha place; and the old couple, that now take care of the house, make apretty penny, I'll be bound, though they won't own it, by showing thatpart of the place. "

"It may suit me, but I shall be able to give a decisive answer when Isee it on the morrow. You will let my attendants have what they require, and see that my horses be well looked to. "

"Certainly, oh! certainly, sir, of course; you might go far, indeed, sir, before you found an inn where everything would be done as thingsare done here. Is there anything in particular, sir, you would like fordinner?"

"How can I tell that, idiot, until the dinner time arrives?"

"Well, but, sir, in that case, you know, we scarcely know what to do, because you see, sir, you understand--"

"It is very strange to me that you can neither see nor understand yourduty. I am accustomed to having the dinner tables spread with all thatmoney can procure; then I choose, but not before, what it suits me topartake of. "

"Wil, sir, that is a very good way, and perhaps we ain't quite so usedto that sort of thing as we ought to be in these parts; but anothertime, sir, we shall know better what we are about, without a doubt, andI only hope, sir, that we shall have you in the neighbourhood for a longtime; and so, sir, putting one thing to another, and then drawing aconclusion from both of them, you see, sir, you will be able tounderstand. "

"Peace! begone! what is the use of all this bellowing to me--I want itnot--I care not for it. "

The baron spoke these words so furiously, that the landlord was ratherterrified than otherwise, and left the room hastily, muttering tohimself that he had never come across such a tiger, and wondering wherethe baron could have possibly come from, and what amount of wealth hecould be possessed of, that would enable him to live in such a princelystyle as he mentioned. 

If the Baron Stolmuyer of Saltzburgh had wished ever so much to impressupon the minds of all persons in the neighbourhood the fact of hiswealth and importance, he could not have adopted a better plan toaccomplish that object than by first of all impressing such facts uponthe mind of the landlord of the Anderbury Arms, for in the course ofanother hour it was tolerably well spread all over the town, that neverhad there been such a guest at the Anderbury Arms; and that he calledAnderbury-on-the-Mount, with all its rooms--all its outbuildings, andits three hundred acres of ground, a cottage. 

This news spread like wildfire, awaking no end of speculation, andgiving rise to the most exaggerated rumours, so that a number of personscame to the inn on purpose to endeavour to get a look at the baron; buthe did not stir from his apartments, so that these wondermongers weredisappointed, and even forced to go away as wise as they came; but inthe majority of cases they made up their minds that in the morning theyshould surely be able to obtain a glimpse of him, which was considered agreat treat, for a man with an immense income is looked upon in Englandas a natural curiosity. 

The landlord took his guest at his word as regards the dinner, andprovided such a repast as seldom, indeed, graced the board at theAnderbury Arms--a repast sufficient for twenty people, and certainlywhich was a monstrous thing to set before one individual. 

The baron, however, made no remark, but selected a portion from some ofthe dishes, and those dishes that he did select from, were of thesimplest kind, and not such as the landlord expected him to take, sothat he really paid about one hundred times the amount he ought to havedone for what actually passed his lips. 

And then what a fidget the landlord was in about his wines, for hedoubted not but such a guest would be extremely critical and hard toplease; but, to his great relief, the baron declined taking any wine, merely washing down his repast with a tumbler of cool water; and then, although the hour was very early, he retired at once to rest. 

The landlord was not disposed to disregard the injunction which thebaron had given him to attend carefully on his servants and horses, andafter giving orders that nothing should be stinted as regarded thelatter, he himself looked to the creature-comforts of the former, and hedid this with a double motive, for not only was he anxious to make themost he could out of the baron in the way of charges, but he waspositively panting with curiosity to know more about so singular apersonage, and he thought that surely the servants must be able tofurnish him with some particulars regarding their eccentric master. 

In this, however, he was mistaken, for although they told him all theyknew, that amounted to so little as really not to be worth the learning. 

They informed him that they had been engaged all in the last week, andthat they knew nothing of the baron whatever, or where he came from, orwhat he was, excepting that he paid them most liberal wages, and was notvery exacting in the service he required of them. 

This was very unsatisfactory, and when the landlord started on amission, which he considered himself bound to perform, to a Mr. Leek, inthe town, who had the letting of Anderbury-on-the-Mount, he was quitevexed to think what a small amount of information he was able to carryto him. 

"I can tell him, " he said to himself as he went quickly towards theagent's residence; "I can tell him the baron's name, and that in themorning he wants to look at Anderbury-on-the-Mount; but that's all Iknow of him, except that he is a most extraordinary man--indeed, themost extraordinary that I ever came near. "

Mr. Leek, the house agent, notwithstanding the deficiency of the factscontained in the landlord's statement, was well enough satisfied to hearthat any one of apparent wealth was inquiring after the large premisesto let, for, as he said truly to the landlord, --

"The commission on letting and receiving the rentals of such a propertyis no joke to me. "

"Precisely, " said the landlord. "I thought it was better to come andtell you at once, for there can be no doubt that he is enormously rich. "

"If that be satisfactorily proved, it's of no consequence what he is, orwho he is, and you may depend I shall be round to the inn early in themorning to attend upon him; and in that case, perhaps, if you have anyconversation with him, you will be so good as to mention that I willshow him over the premises at his own hour, and you shall not beforgotten, you may depend, if any arrangement is actually come to. Itwill be just as well for you to tell him what a nice property it is, andthat it is to be let for eight hundred a year, or sold outright foreight thousand pounds. "

"I will, you may depend, Mr. Leek. A most extraordinary man you willfind him; not the handsomest in the world, I can tell you, but handsomeis as handsome does, say I; and, if he takes Anderbury-on-the-Mount, Ihave no doubt but he will spend a lot of money in the neighbourhood, andwe shall all be the better of that, of course, as you well know, sir. "

This then was thoroughly agreed upon between these high contractingpowers, and the landlord returned home very well satisfied, indeed, withthe position in which he had put the affair, and resolved upon urging onthe baron, as far as it lay within his power so to do, to establishhimself in the neighbourhood, and to allow him to be purveyor-in-generalto his household, which, if the baron continued in his liberal humour, would be unquestionably a very pleasant post to occupy. 

CHAPTER XCIV. 

THE VISITOR, AND THE DEATH IN THE SUBTERRANEAN PASSAGE. 

[Illustration]

About an hour and a half after the baron had retired to rest, and whilethe landlord was still creeping about enjoining silence on the part ofthe establishment, so that the slumbers of a wealthy and, no doubt, illustrious personage should not be disturbed, there arrived a horsemanat the Anderbury Arms. 

He was rather a singular-looking man, with a shifting, uneasy-lookingglance, as if he were afraid of being suddenly pounced upon andsurprised by some one; and although his apparel was plain, yet it wasgood in quality, and his whole appearance was such as to inducerespectful attention. 

The only singular circumstance was, that such a traveller, so wellmounted, should be alone; but that might have been his own fancy, sothat the absence of an attendant went for nothing. Doubtless, if thewhole inn had not been in such a commotion about the illustrious andwealthy baron, this stranger would have received more consideration andattention than he did. 

Upon alighting, he walked at once into what is called the coffee-room ofthe hotel, and after ordering some refreshments, of which he partook butsparingly, he said, in a mild but solemn sort of tone, to the waiter whoattended upon him, --

"Tell the Baron Stolmuyer, of Saltzburgh, that there is one here whowants to see him. "

"I beg your pardon, sir, " said the waiter, "but the baron is gone tobed. "

"It matters not to me. If you nor no one else in this establishment willdeliver the message I charge you with, I must do so myself. "

"I'll speak to my master, sir; but the baron is a very great gentlemanindeed, and I don't think my master would like to have him disturbed. "

The stranger hesitated for a time, and then he said, --

"Show me the baron's apartment. Perhaps I ought not to ask any oneperson connected with this establishment to disturb him, when I am quitewilling to do so myself. Show me the way. "

"Well, but, sir, the baron may get in a rage, and say, very naturally, that we had no business to let anybody walk up to his room and disturbhim, because we wouldn't do so ourselves. So that you see, sir, when youcome to consider, it hardly seems the right sort of thing. "

"Since, " said the stranger, rising, "I cannot procure even the commoncourtesy of being shown to the apartment of the person whom I seek, Imust find him myself. "

As he spoke he walked out of the room, and began ascending thestaircase, despite the remonstrances of the waiter, who called after himrepeatedly, but could not induce him to stop; and when he found thatsuch was the case, he made his way to the landlord, to give the alarmthat, for all he knew to the contrary, some one had gone up stairs tomurder the baron. 

This information threw the landlord into such a fix, that he knew notwhat to be at. At one moment he was for rushing up stairs andendeavouring to interfere, and at another he thought the best plan wouldbe to pretend that he knew nothing about it. 

While he was in this state of uncertainty, the stranger succeeded inmaking his way up stairs to the floor from which proceeded the bedrooms, and, apparently, having no fear whatever of the Baron Stolmuyer'sindignation before his eyes, he opened door after door, until he came toone which led him into the apartment occupied by that illustriousindividual. 

The baron, half undressed only, lay in an uneasy slumber upon the bed, and the stranger stood opposite to him for some minutes, as ifconsidering what he should do. 

"It would be easy, " he said, "to kill him; but it will pay me better tospare him. I may be wrong in supposing that he has the means which Ihope he has; but that I shall soon discover by his conversation. "

Stretching out, his hand, he tapped the baron lightly on the shoulder, who thereupon opened his eyes and sprang to his feet instantly, glancingwith fixed earnestness at the intruder, upon whose face shone the lightof a lamp which was burning in the apartment. 

Then the baron shrunk back, and the stranger, folding his arms, said, --

"You know me. Let our interview be as brief as possible. There needs noexplanations between us, for we both know all that could be said. Bysome accident you have become rich, while I continue quite otherwise. Itmatters not how this has occurred, the fact is everything. I don't knowthe amount of your possessions; but, from your style of living, theymust be great, and therefore it is that I make no hesitation in askingof you, as a price for not exposing who and what you are, a moderatesum. "

"I thought that you were dead. "

"I know you did; but you behold me here, and, consequently, thatdelusion vanishes. "

"What sum do you require, and what assurance can I have that, when youget if, the demand will not be repeated on the first opportunity?"

"I can give you no such assurance, perhaps, that would satisfy youentirely; but, for more reasons than I choose to enter into, I amextremely anxious to leave England at once and forever. Give me thepower to do so that I require, and you will never hear of me again. "

[Illustration]

The baron hesitated for some few seconds, during which he lookedscrutinizingly at his companion, and then he said, in a tone of voicethat seemed as if he were making the remark to himself rather than tothe other, --

"You look no older than you did when last we parted, and that was yearsago. "

"Why should I look older? You know as well as I that I need not. But, tobe brief, I do not wish to interfere with any plans or projects you mayhave on hand. I do not wish to be a hindrance to you. Let me have fivethousand pounds, and I am off at once and forever, I tell you. "

"Five thousand! the man raves--five thousand pounds! Say one thousand, and it is yours. "

"No; I have fixed my price; and if you do not consent, I now tell youthat I will blazon forth, even in this house, who and what you are; and, let your schemes of ambition or of cupidity be what they may, you may beassured that I will blast them all. "

"This is no place in which to argue such a point; come out into the openair; 'walls have ears;' but come out, and I will give you such specialreasons why you should not now press your claim at all, that you shallfeel much beholden to me for them, and not regret your visit. "

"If that we come to terms, I no more desire than you can do that any oneshould overhear our conversation. I prefer the open air for anyconference, be it whatever it may--much prefer it; and therefore mostwillingly embrace your proposition. Come out. "

The baron put on his travelling cap, and the rich velvet cloak, edgedwith fur, that he possessed, and leaving his chamber a few paces inadvance of his strange visitor, he descended the staircase, followed byhim. In the hall of the hotel they found the landlord and almost thewhole of the establishment assembled, in deep consultation as to whetheror not any one was to go up stairs and ascertain if the stranger who hadsought the baron's chamber was really a friend or an enemy. 

But when they saw the two men coming down, at all events apparentlyamicably, it was a great relief, and the landlord rushed forward andopened the door, for which piece of service he got a very stately bowfrom the baron, and a slight inclination of the head from his visitor, and then they both passed out. 

"I have ascertained, " said the man who came on horseback, "that for thelast week in London you have lived in a style of the most princelymagnificence, and that you came down here, attended as if you were oneof the first nobles of the land. "

"These things amuse the vulgar, " said the baron. "I do not mindadmitting to you that I contemplate residing on this spot, and perhapscontracting a marriage. "

"Another marriage?"

"And why not? If wives will die suddenly, and no one knows why, who isto help it. I do not pretend to control the fates. "

"This, between us, is idle talk indeed--most idle; for we know there arecertain circumstances which account for the strangest phenomena; butwhat roaring sound is that which comes so regularly and steadily uponthe ear. "

"It is the sea washing upon the coast. The tide is no doubt advancing, and, as the eddying surges roll in upon the pebbly shore, they makewhat, to my mind, is this pleasant music. "

"I did not think we were so near the ocean. The moon is rising; let uswalk upon the beach, and as that sound is such pleasant music, you shallhear it while I convince you what unpleasant consequences will arisefrom a refusal of the modest and moderate terms I offer you. "

"We shall see, we shall see; but I must confess it does seem to me mostextraordinary that you ask of me a positive fortune, for fear you shoulddeprive me of a portion of one; but you cannot mean what you say. "

While they were talking they reached a long strip of sand which was bythe seashore, at the base of some cliffs, through which was excavatedthe passage from the coast into the grounds of Anderbury House, andwhich had been so expatiated upon by the landlord of the inn, in hisdescription of the advantages attendant upon that property. 

There were some rude steps, leading to a narrow arched door-way, whichconstituted an entrance to this subterraneous region; and as themoonlight streamed over the wide waste of waters, and fell upon thislittle door-way in the face of the cliff, he became convinced that itwas the entrance to that excavation, and he eyed it curiously. 

"What place is that?" said his companion. 

"It is a private entrance to the grounds of a mansion in thisneighbourhood. "

"Private enough, I should presume; for if there be any other means ofreaching the house, surely no one would go through such a dismal hole asthat towards it; but come, make up your mind at once. There need be noquarrelling upon the subject of our conference, but let it be a plainmatter of yes or no. Is it worth your while to be left alone in peace, or is it not?"

"It is worth my while, but not at such a price as that you mentioned;and I cannot help thinking that some cheaper mode of accomplishing thesame object will surely present itself very shortly. "

"I do not understand you; you talk ambiguously. "

"But my acts, " said the baron, "shall be clear and plain enough, as youshall see. Could you believe it possible that I was the sort of personto submit tamely to any amount of extortion you chose to practise uponme. There was a time when I thought you possessed great sense andjudgment when I thought that you were a man who weighed well the chancesof what you were about; but now I know to the contrary; and I think forless than a thousand pounds I may succeed in ridding myself of you. "

"I do not understand you; you had better beware how you tamper with me, for I am not one who will be calmly disposed to put up with much. Thesense, tact, and worldly knowledge which you say you have before, fromtime to time, given me credit for, belongs to me still, and I am notlikely easily to commit myself. "

"Indeed; do you think you bear such a charmed life that nothing canshake it?"

"I think nothing of the sort; but I know what I can do--I am armed. "

"And I; and since it comes to this, take the reward of your villany; forit was you who made me what I am, and would now seek to destroy my everyhope of satisfaction. "

As the baron spoke he drew from his breast a small pistol, which, withthe quickness of thought, he held full in the face of his companion, andpulled the trigger. 

There can be no doubt on earth that his intention was to commit themurder, but the pistol missed fire, and he was defeated in his intentionat that moment. Then the stranger laughed scornfully, and drawing apistol from his pocket, he presented it at the baron's head, saying, --

"Do I not bear a charmed life? If I had not, should I have escaped deathfrom you now? No, I could not; but you perceive that even a weapon thatmight not fail you upon another occasion is harmless against me; and canyou expect that I will hesitate now to take full and ample revenge uponyou for this dastardly attempt?"

These words were spoken with great volubility, so much so, indeed, thatthey only occupied a few very brief seconds in delivering; and then, perhaps, the baron's career might have ended, for it seemed to be fullythe intention of the other to conclude what he said by firing the pistolin his face; but the wily aspect of the baron's countenance was, afterall, but a fair index of the mind, and, just as the last words passedthe lips of his irritated companion, he suddenly dropped in a crouchingposition to the ground, and, seizing his legs, threw him over his headin an instant. 

The pistol was discharged, at the same moment, and then, with a shout ofrage and satisfaction, the baron sprang upon his foe, and, kneeling uponhis breast, he held aloft in his hand a glittering dagger, thehighly-polished blade of which caught the moonbeams, and reflected theminto the dazzled eyes of the conquered man, whose fate now appeared tobe certain. 

"Fool!" said the baron, "you must needs, then, try conclusions with me, and, not content with the safety of insignificance, you must be absurdenough to think it possible you could extort from me whatever sums yourfancy dictated, or with any effect threaten me, if I complied not withyour desires. "

"Have mercy upon me. I meant not to take your life; and, therefore, whyshould you take mine?"

"You would have taken it, and, therefore, you shall die. Know, too, atthis is your last moment, that, vampyre as you are, and as I, of allmen, best know you to be, I will take especial care that you shall beplaced in some position after death where the revivifying moonbeams maynot touch you, so that this shall truly be your end, and you shall rotaway, leaving no trace behind of your existence, sufficient to containthe vital principle. "

"No--no! you cannot--will not. You will have mercy. "

"Ask the famished tiger for mercy, when you intrude upon his den. "

As he spoke the baron ground his tenth together with rage, and, in aninstant, buried the poniard in the throat of his victim. The blade wentthrough to the yellow sand beneath, and the murderer still knelt uponthe man's chest, while he who had thus received so fatal a blow tossedhis arms about with agony, and tried in vain to shriek. 

The nature of the wound, however, prevented him from uttering anythingbut a low gurgling sound, for he was nearly choked with his own blood, and soon his eyes became fixed and of a glassy appearance; he stretchedout his two arms, and dug his fingers deep into the sand. 

The baron drew forth the poniard, and a gush of blood immediatelyfollowed it, and then one deep groan testified to the fact, that thespirit, if there be a spirit, had left its mortal habitation, and wingedits flight to other realms, if there be other realms for it to wing itsflight to. 

"He is dead, " said the baron, and, at the same moment, a roll of theadvancing tide swept over the body, drenching the living, as well as thedead, with the brine of the ocean. 

The baron stooped and rinsed the dagger in the advancing tide from theclotted blood which had clung to it, and then, wiping it carefully, hereturned it to its sheath, which was hidden within the folds of hisdress; and, rising from his kneeling posture upon the body, he stood byits side, with folded arms, gazing upon it, for some minutes, insilence, heedless of the still advancing water, which was alreadyconsiderably above his feet. 

Then he spoke in his ordinary accents, and evidently caring nothing forthe fact that he had done such a deed. 

"I must dispose of this carcase, " he said, "which now seems so lifeless, for the moon is up, and if its beams fall upon it, I know, from formerexperience, what will happen; it will rise again, and walk the earth, seeking for vengeance upon me, and the thirst for that vengeance willbecome such a part of its very nature, that it will surely accomplishsomething, if not all that it desires. "

After a few moments' consideration, he stooped, and, with more strengththan one would have thought it possible a man reduced almost, as he was, to a skeleton could have exerted, he lifted the body, and carried itrapidly up the beach towards the cliffs. He threw it down upon the stonesteps that led to the small door of the excavation in the cliff, and itfell upon them with a sickening sound, as if some of the bones weresurely broken by the fall. 

The object, then, of the baron seemed to be to get this door open, if hepossibly could; but that was an object easier to be desired than carriedinto effect, for, although he exerted his utmost power, he did notsucceed in moving it an inch, and he began evidently to think that itwould be impossible to do so. 

But yet he did not give up the attempt at once, but looking about uponthe beach, until he found a large heavy stone, he raised it in his arms, and, approaching the door, he flung it against it with such tremendousforce, that it flew open instantly, disclosing within a dark and narrowpassage. 

Apparently rejoiced that he had accomplished this much, he stoppedcautiously within the entrance, and then, taking from a concealed pocketthat was in the velvet cloak which he wore a little box, he producedfrom it some wax-lights and some chemical matches, which, by theslightest effort, he succeeded in igniting, and then, with one of thelights in his hand to guide him on his way, he went on exploring thepassage, and treading with extreme caution as he went, for fear offalling into any of the ice-wells which were reported to be in thatplace. 

After proceeding about twenty yards, and finding that there was nodanger, he became less cautious; but, in consequence of such lesscaution, he very nearly sacrificed his life, for he came upon anice-well which seemed a considerable depth, and into which he had nearlyplunged headlong. 

He started hack with some degree of horror; but that soon left him, andthen, after a moment's thought, he sought for some little nook in thewall, in which he might place the candle, and soon finding one thatanswered the purpose well, he there left it, having all the appearanceof a little shrine, while he proceeded again to the mouth of thatsingular and cavernous-looking place. He had, evidently, quite made uphis mind what to do, for, without a moment's hesitation, he lifted thebody again, and carried it within the entrance, walking boldly andfirmly, now that he knew there was no danger between him and the light, which shed a gleam through the darkness of the place of a very faint andflickering character. 

He reached it rapidly, and when he got to the side of the well, he, without a moment's hesitation, flung it headlong down, and, listeningattentively, he heard it fall with a slight plash, as if there was somewater at the bottom of the pit. 

It was an annoyance, however, for him to find that the distance was notso deep as he had anticipated, and when he took the light from the nichewhere he had placed it, and looked earnestly down, he could see thelivid, ghastly-looking face of the dead man, for the body hadaccidentally fallen upon its back, which was a circumstance he had notcounted upon, and one which increased the chances greatly of its beingseen, should any one be exploring, from curiosity, that not veryinviting place. 

This was annoyance, but how could it be prevented, unless, indeed, hechose to descend, and make an alteration in the disposition of thecorpse? But this was evidently what he did not choose to do; so, aftermuttering to himself a few words expressive of his intention to leave itwhere it was, he replaced the candle, after extinguishing it, in the boxfrom whence he had taken it, and carefully walked out of the dismalplace. 

The moonbeams were shining very brightly and beautifully upon the faceof the cliffs, when he emerged from the subterranean passage, so that hecould see the door, the steps, and every object quite distinctly; and, to his gratification, he found that he had not destroyed any fasteningthat was to the door, but that when it was slammed shut, it struck sohard and fast, that the strength of one man could not possibly move it, even the smallest fraction of an inch. 

"I shall be shown all this to-morrow, " he said; "and if I take thishouse I must have an alteration made in this door, so that it may openwith a lock, instead of by main violence, as at present; but if, in themorning, when I view Anderbury House, I can avoid an entrance into thisregion, I will do so, and at my leisure, if I become the possessor ofthe estate, I can explore every nook and cranny of it. "

He then folded his cloak about him, after pulling the door as closely ashe could. He walked slowly and thoughtfully back to the inn. It wasquite evident that the idea of the murder he had committed did not annoyhim in the least, and that in his speculations upon the subject hecongratulated himself much upon having so far succeeded in getting ridof certainly a most troublesome acquaintance. 

"'Tis well, indeed, " he said, "that just at this juncture he shouldthrow himself in my way, and enable me so easy to feel certain that Ishall never more be troubled with him. Truly, I ran some risk, and whenmy pistol missed fire, it seemed as if my evil star was in itsascendant, and that I was doomed myself to become the victim of him whomI have laid in so cold a grave. But I have been victorious, and I amwilling to accept the circumstance as an omen of the past--that myfortunes are on the change. I think I shall be successful now, and withthe ample means which I now possess, surely, in this country, where goldis loved so well, I shall be able to overcome all difficulties, and tounite myself to some one, who--but no matter, her fate is an afterconsideration. "

CHAPTER XCV. 

THE MARRIAGE IN THE BANNERWORTH FAMILY ARRANGED. 

[Illustration]

After the adventure of the doctor with regard to the picture about whichsuch an air of mystery and interest has been thrown, the Bannerworthfamily began to give up all hopes of ever finding a clue to thosecircumstances concerning which they would certainly have liked to haveknown the truth, but of which it was not likely they would ever hearanything more. 

Dr. Chillingworth now had no reserve, and when he had recoveredsufficiently to feel that he could converse without an effort, he tookan opportunity, while the whole of the family were present, to speak ofwhat had been his hopes and his expectations. 

"You are all aware, " he said, "now, of the story of MarmadukeBannerworth, and what an excessively troublesome person he was, with alldeference, to you, Henry; first of all, as to spending all his money atthe gaming-table, and leaving his family destitute; and then, when hedid get a lump of money which might have done some good to those he leftbehind him--hiding it somewhere where it could not be found at all, andso leaving you all in great difficulty and distress, when you might havebeen independent. "

"That's true enough, doctor, " said Henry; "but you know the oldproverb, --that ill-gotten wealth never thrives; so that I don't regretnot finding this money, for I am sure we should have been none thehappier with it, and perhaps not so happy. "

"Oh, bother the old proverb; thirty or forty thousand pounds is notrifle to be talked lightly of, or the loss of which to be quietly putup with, on account of a musty proverb. It's a large sum, and I shouldlike to have placed it in your hands. "

"But as you cannot, doctor, there can be no good possibly done byregretting it. "

"No, certainly; I don't mean that; utter regret is always a very foolishthing; but it's questionable whether something might not be done in thematter, after all, for you, as it appears, by all the evidence we cancollect, that it must have been Varney, after all, who jumped down uponme from the garden-wall in so sudden a manner: and, if I the picture bevaluable to him, it must be valuable to us. "

"But how are we to get it, and if we could, I do not see that it wouldbe of much good to anybody, for, after all, it is but a painting. "

"There you go again, " said the doctor, "depreciating what you knownothing about; now, listen to me, Master Henry, and I will tell you. That picture evidently had some sort of lining at the back, over theoriginal canvas; and do you think I would have taken such pains to bringit away with me if that lining had not made me suspect that between itand the original picture the money, in bank notes, was deposited?"

"Had you any special reason for supposing such was the case?"

"Yes; most unquestionably I had; for when I got the picture fairly down, I found various inequalities in the surface of the back, which led me tobelieve that rolls of notes were deposited, and that the great mistakewe had all along made was in looking behind the picture, instead of atthe picture itself. I meant immediately to have cut it to pieces when Ireached here with it; but now it has got into the hands of somebodyelse, who knows, I suspect, as much I do. "

"It is rather provoking. "

"Rather provoking! is that the way to talk of the loss of Heaven knowshow many thousands of pounds! I am quite aggravated myself at the ideaof the thing, and it puts me in a perfect fever to think of it, I canassure you. "

"But what can we do?"

"Oh! I propose an immediate crusade against Varney, the vampyre, for whobut he could have made such an attack upon me, and force me to deliverup such a valuable treasure?"

"Never heed it, doctor, " said Flora; "let it go; we have never had orenjoyed that money, so it cannot matter, and it is not to be consideredas the loss of an actual possession, because we never did actuallypossess it. "

"Yes, " chimed in the admiral; "bother the money! what do we care aboutit; and, besides, Charley Holland is going to be very busy. "

"Busy!" said the doctor, "how do you mean?"

"Why, isn't he going to be married directly to Flora, here, and am not Igoing to settle the whole of my property upon him on condition that hetakes the name of Bell instead of Holland? for, you see, his mother wasmy sister, and of course her name was Bell. As for his father Holland, it can't matter to him now what Charley is called; and if he don't takethe name of Bell I shall be the last in the family, for I am not likelyto marry, and have any little Bells about me. "

"No, " said the doctor; "I should say not; and that's the reason why youwant to ring the changes upon Charles Holland's name. Do you see thejoke, admiral?"

"I can't say I do--where is it? It's all very well to talk of jokes, butif I was like Charles, going to be married, I shouldn't be in any jokinghumour, I can tell you, but quite the reverse; and as for you and yourpicture, if you want it, doctor, just run after Varney yourself for it;or, stay--I have a better idea than that--get your wife to go and askhim for it, and if she makes half such a clamour about his ears that shedid about ours, he will give it her in a minute, to get rid of her. "

"My wife!--you don't mean to say she has been here?"

"Yes, but she has though. And now, doctor, I can tell you I have seen agood deal of service in all parts of the world, and, of course, pickedup a little experience; and, if I were you, some of these days, whenMrs. Chillingworth ain't very well, I'd give her a composing draughtthat would make her quiet enough. "

"Ah! that's not my style of practice, admiral; but I am sorry to hearthat Mrs. Chillingworth has annoyed you so much. "

"Pho, pho, man!--pho, pho! do you think she could annoy me? Why, I haveencountered storms and squalls in all latitudes, and it isn't a woman'stongue now that can do anything of an annoying character, I can tellyou; far from it--very far from it; so don't distress yourself upon thathead. But come, doctor, we are going to have the wedding the day afterto-morrow. "

"No, no, " said Flora; "the week after next, you mean, "

"Is it the week after next? I'll be hanged if I didn't think it was theday after to-morrow; but of course you know best, as you have settled itall among you. I have nothing to do with it. "

"Of course, I shall, with great pleasure, " returned the doctor, "bepresent on the interesting occasion; but do you intend taking possessionof Bannerworth Hall again?"

"No, certainly not, " said Henry; "we propose going to the Dearbrookestate, and there remaining for a time to see how we all like it. Wemay, perchance, enjoy it very much, for I have heard it spoken of as anattractive little property enough, and one that any one might fancy, after being resident a short time upon it. "

"Well, " said the admiral; "that is, I believe, settled among us, but Iam sure we sha'n't like it, on account of the want of the sea. Why, Itell you, I have not seen a ship myself for this eighteen months;there's a state of things, you see, that won't do to last, because onewould get dry-mouldy: it's a shocking thing to see nothing but land, land, wherever you go. "

From the preceding conversation may be gathered what were the designs ofthe Bannerworth family, and what progress had been made in carrying themout. From the moment they had discovered the title-deeds of theDearbrook property, they had ceased to care about the large sum of moneywhich Marmaduke Bannerworth had been supposed to have hidden in someportion of Bannerworth Hall. 

They had already passed through quite enough of the busy turmoils ofexistence to be grateful for anything that promised ease and competence, and that serenity of mind which is the dearest possession which any onecan compass. 

Consequently was it, that, with one accord, they got rid of all yearningafter the large sum which the doctor was so anxious to procure for them, and looked forward to a life of great happiness and contentment. On thewhole, too, when they came to talk the matter over quietly amongthemselves, they were not sorry that Varney had taken himself off in theway he had, for really it was a great release; and, as he had couchedhis farewell in words which signified it was a final one, they wereinclined to think that he must have left England, and that it was notlikely they should ever again encounter him, under any circumstanceswhatever. 

It was to be considered quite as a whim of the old admiral's, thechanging of Charles Holland's name to Bell; but, as Charles himself saidwhen the subject was broached to him, --"I am so well content to becalled whatever those to whom I feel affection think proper, that I giveup my name of Holland without a pang, willingly adopting in its steadone that has always been hallowed in my remembrance with the best andkindest recollections. "

And thus this affair was settled, much to the satisfaction of Flora, whowas quite as well content to be called Mrs. Bell as to be called Mrs. Holland, since the object of her attachment remained the same. Thewedding was really fixed for the week after that which followed theconversation we have recorded; but the admiral was not at all disposedto allow Flora and his nephew Charles to get through such an importantperiod of their lives without some greater demonstration and show thancould be made from the little cottage where they dwelt; and consequentlyhe wished that they should leave that and proceed at once to a largermansion, which he had his eye upon a few miles off, and which was to behad furnished for a time, at the pleasure of any one. 

"And we won't shut ourselves up, " said the admiral; "but we will findout all the Christian-like people in the neighbourhood, and invite themto the wedding, and we will have a jolly good breakfast together, andlots of music, and a famous lunch; and, after that, a dinner, and then adance, and all that sort of thing; so that there shall be no want offun. "

As may be well supposed, both Charles and Flora shrunk from so public anaffair; but, as the old man had evidently set his heart upon it, theydid not like to say they positively would not; so, after a vain attemptto dissuade him from removing at all from the cottage until they removedfor good, they gave up the point to him, and he had it all his own way. 

He took the house, for one month, which had so taken his fancy, andcertainly a pretty enough place it was, although they found outafterwards, that why it was he was so charmed with it consisted in thefact that it bore the name of a vessel which he had once commanded; butthis they did not know until a long time afterwards, when it slipped outby mere accident. 

They stipulated with the admiral that there should not be more thantwenty guests at the breakfast which was to succeed the marriageceremony; and to that he acceded; but Henry whispered to CharlesHolland, --

"I know this public wedding to be distasteful to you, and mostparticularly do I know it is distasteful to Flora; so, if you do notmind playing a trick upon the old man, I can very easily put you in theway of cheating him entirely. "

"Indeed; I should like to hear, and, what is more, I should like topractise, if you think it will not so entirely offend him as to make himimplacable. "

"Not at all, not at all; he will laugh himself, when he comes to knowit, as much as any of us; the present difficulty will be to procureFlora's connivance; but that we must do the best way we can bypersuasion. "

What this scheme was will ultimately appear; but, certain it is, thatthe old admiral had no suspicion of what was going on, and proceeded tomake all his arrangements accordingly. 

From his first arrival in the market town--in the neighbourhood of whichwas Bannerworth Hall--it will be recollected that he had taken a greatfancy to the lawyer, in whose name a forged letter had been sent him, informing him of the fact that his nephew, Charles Holland, intendedmarrying into a family of vampyres. 

It was this letter, as the reader is aware, which brought the oldadmiral and Jack Pringle into the neighbourhood of the Hall; and, although it was a manoeuvre to get rid of Charles Holland, which failedmost signally, there can be no doubt but that such a letter was theproduction of Sir Francis Varney, and that he wrote it for the expresspurpose of getting rid of Charles from the Hall, who had begunmaterially to interfere with his plans and projects there. 

After some conversation with himself, the admiral thought that thislawyer would be just the man to recommend the proper sort of people tobe invited to the wedding of Charles and Flora; so he wrote to him, inviting himself to dinner, and received back a very gracious reply fromthe lawyer, who declared that the honour of entertaining a gentlemanwhom he so much respected as Admiral Bell, was greater than he had aright to expect by a great deal, and that he should feel most gratefulfor his company, and await his coming with the greatest impatience. 

"A devilish civil fellow, that attorney, " said the admiral, as he putthe letter in his pocket, "and almost enough to put one in conceit oflawyers. "

"Yes, " said Jack Pringle, who had overheard the admiral read the letter. 

"Yes, we will honour him; and I only hope he will have plenty of grog;because, you see, if he don't--D--n it! what's that? Can't you keepthings to yourself?"

This latter exclamation arose from the fact that the admiral was soindignant at Jack for listening to what he had been saying, as to throwa leaden inkstand, that happened to be upon the table, at his head. 

"You mutinous swab!" he said, "cannot a gentleman ask me to dinner, orcannot I ask myself, without you putting your spoke in the windlass, youvagabond?"

"Oh! well, " said Jack, "if you are out of temper about it, I had bettersend my mark to the lawyer, and tell him that we won't come, as it hasmade some family differences. "

"Family, you thief!" said the admiral. "What do you mean? What family doyou think would own you? D--n me, if I don't think you came over in somestrange ship. But, I tell you what it is, if you interfere in thismatter, I'll be hanged if I don't blow your brains out. "

"And you'll be hanged if you do, " said Jack, as he walked out of theroom; "so it's all one either way, old fizgig. "

"What!" roared the admiral, as he sprang up and ran after Jack. "Have Ilived all these years to be called names in my own ship--I mean my ownhouse? What does the infernal rascal mean by it?"

The admiral, no doubt, would have pursued Jack very closely, had notFlora intercepted him, and, by gentle violence, got him back to theroom. No one else could have ventured to have stopped him, but theaffection he had for her was so great that she could really accomplishalmost anything with him; and, by listening quietly to his complaints ofJack Pringle--which, however, involved a disclosure of the fact which hehad intended to keep to himself, that he had sought the lawyer'sadvice--she succeeded in soothing him completely, so that he forgot hisanger in a very short time. 

But the old man's anger, although easily aroused, never lasted verylong; and, upon the whole, it was really astonishing what he put up withfrom Jack Pringle, in the way of taunts and sneers, of all sorts anddescriptions, and now and then not a little real abuse. 

And, probably, he thought likewise that Jack Pringle did not mean whathe said, on the same principle that he (the admiral), when he calledJack a mutinous swab and a marine, certainly did not mean that Jack wasthose things, but merely used them as expletives to express a greatamount of indignation at the moment, because, as may be well supposed, nothing in the world could be worse, in Admiral Bell's estimation, thatto be a mutinous swab or a marine. 

It was rather a wonder, though, that, in his anger some day, he did notdo Jack some mischief; for, as we have had occasion to notice in one ortwo cases, the admiral was not extremely particular as to what sorts ofmissiles he used when he considered it necessary to throw something atJack's head. 

It would not have been a surprising thing if Jack had really made somecommunication to the lawyer; but he did stop short at that amount ofpleasantry, and, as he himself expressed it, for once in a way he letthe old man please himself. 

The admiral soon forgot this little dispute, and then pleased himselfwith the idea that he should pass a pleasant day with the attorney. 

"Ah! well, " he said; "who would have thought that ever I should havegone and taken dinner with a lawyer--and not only done that, but invitedmyself too! It shows us all that there may be some good in all sorts ofmen, lawyers included; and I am sure, after this, I ought to begin tothink what I never thought before, and that is, that a marine mayactually be a useful person. It shows that, as one gets older, one getswiser. "

[Illustration]

It was an immense piece of liberality for a man brought up, as AdmiralBell had been, in decidedly one of the most prejudiced branches of thepublic service, to make any such admissions as these. A very great thingit was, and showed a liberality of mind such as, even at the presenttime, is not readily found. 

It is astonishing, as well as amusing, to find how the mind assimilatesitself to the circumstances in which it is placed, and how society, being cut up into small sections, imagines different things merely as aconsequence of their peculiar application. We shall find that evenpeople, living at different ends of a city, will look with a sort ofpity and contempt upon each other; and it is much to be regretted thatpublic writers are found who use what little ability they may possess inpandering to their feelings. 

It was as contemptible and silly as it was reprehensible for a latecelebrated novelist to pretend that he believed there was at placecalled Bloomsbury-square, but he really did not know; because that wasmerely done for the purpose of raising a silly laugh among persons whowere neither respectable on account of their abilities or their conduct. 

But to return from this digression. The admiral, attired in his bestsuit, which always consisted of a blue coat, the exact colour of thenavy uniform, an immense pale primrose coloured waistcoat, and whitekerseymere continuations, went to the lawyer's as had been arranged. 

If anything at all could flatter the old man's vanity successfully, itcertainly would be the manner in which he was received at the lawyer'shouse, where everything was done that could give him satisfaction. 

A very handsome repast was laid before him, and, when the cloth wasremoved, the admiral broached the subject upon which he wished to askthe advice of his professional friend. After telling him of the weddingthat was to come off, he said, --

"Now, I have bargained to invite twenty people; and, of course, as thatis exclusive of any of the family, and as I don't know any people aboutthis neighbourhood except yourself, I want you and your family to cometo start with, and then I want you to find me out some more decentpeople to make up the party. "

"I feel highly flattered, " said the attorney, "that, in such a case asthis, you should have come to me, and my only great fear is, that Ishould not be able to give you satisfaction. "

"Oh! you needn't be afraid of that; there is no fear on that head; so Ishall leave it all to you to invite the folks that you think proper. "

"I will endeavour, certainly, admiral, to do my best. Of course, livingin the town, as I have for many years, I know some very nice people aswell as some very queer ones. "

"Oh! we don't want any of the queer ones; but let those who are invitedbe frank, hearty, good-tempered people, such as one will be glad to meetover and over again without any ceremony--none of your simpering people, who are afraid to laugh for fear of opening their mouths too wide, butwho are so mighty genteel that they are afraid to enjoy anything forfear it should be vulgar. "

"I understand you, admiral, perfectly, and shall endeavour to obey yourinstructions to the very letter; but, if I should unfortunately inviteanybody you don't like, you must excuse me for making such a mistake. "

"Oh, of course--of course. Never mind that; and, if any disagreeablefellow comes, we will smother him in some way. "

"It would serve him right, for no one ought to make himselfdisagreeable, after being honoured with an invitation from you; but Iwill be most especially careful, and I hope that such a circumstancewill not occur. "

"Never mind. If it should, I'll tell you what I'll do; I'll set JackPringle upon him, and if he don't worry his life out it will be astrange thing to me. "

"Oh, " said the lawyer, "I am glad you have mentioned him, for it givesme an opportunity of saying that I have done all in my power to make himcomfortable. "

"All in your power to make him comfortable! What do you mean?"

"I mean that I have placed such a dinner before him as will please him;I told him to ask for just whatever he likes. "

The admiral looked at the lawyer with amazement, for a few moments, insilence, and then he said, "D--n it! why, you don't mean to tell me, that that rascal is here. "

"Oh, yes; he came about ten minutes I before you arrived, and said youwere coming, and he has been down stairs feasting all the while since. "

"Stop a bit. Do you happen to have any loaded fire arms in the house?"

"We have got an old bunderbuss; but what for, admiral?"

"To shoot that scoundrel, Pringle. I'll blow his brains out, as sure asfate. The impudence of his coming here, directly against my orders, too. "

"My dear sir, calm yourself, and think nothing of it; it's of noconsequence whatever. "

"No consequence; where is that blunderbuss of yours? Do you mean to tellme that mutiny is of no consequence? Give me the blunderbuss. "

"But, my clear sir, we only keep it _in terrorem_, and have no bullets. "

"Never mind that, we can cram in a handful of nails, or brass buttons, or hammer up a few halfpence--anything of that sort will do to settlehis business with. "

"How do you get on, old Tarbarrel?" said Jack, putting his head in atthe door. "Are you making yourself comfortable? I'll be hanged if Idon't think you have a drop too much already, you look so precious redabout the gills. I have been getting on famous, and I thought I'd justhop up for a minute to make your mind easy about me, and tell you so. "

It was quite evident that Jack had done justice to the good cheer of thelawyer, for he was rather unsteady, and had to hold by the door-post tosupport himself, while there was such a look of contentment upon hiscountenance as contrasted with the indignation that was manifest uponthe admiral's face that, as the saying is, it would have made a catlaugh to see them. 

"Be off with ye, Jack, " said the lawyer; "be off with ye. Go down stairsagain and enjoy yourself. Don't you see that the admiral is angry withyou. "

"Oh, he be bothered, " said Jack; "I'll soon settle him if he comes anyof his nonsense; and mind, Mr. Lawyer, whatever you do, don't you givehim too much to drink. "

The lawyer ran to the door, and pushed Jack out, for he rightly enoughsuspected that the quietness of the admiral was only that calm whichprecedes a storm of more than usual amount and magnitude, so he wasanxious to part them at once. 

He then set about appeasing, as well as he could, the admiral's anger, by attributing the perseverance of Jack, in following him wherever hewent, to his great affection for him, which, combined with hisignorance, might make him often troublesome when he had really nointention of being so. 

This was certainly the best way of appeasing the old man; and, indeed, the only way in which it could be done successfully, and the proof thatit was so, consisted in the fact, that the admiral did consent, at thesuggestion of the attorney, to forgive Jack once more for the offence hehad committed. 

CHAPTER XCVI. 

THE BARON TAKES ANDERBURY HOUSE, AND DECIDES UPON GIVING A GRANDENTERTAINMENT. 

[Illustration]

It was not considered anything extraordinary that, although the BaronStolmuyer of Saltzburgh went out with the mysterious stranger who hadarrived at the Anderbury Arms to see him, he should return without himfor certainly he was not bound to bring him back, by any means whatever. 

Moreover, he entered the inn so quietly, and with such an appearance ofperfect composure, that no one could have suspected for a moment that hehad been guilty really of the terrific crime which had been laid to hischarge--a crime which few men could have committed in so entirelyunmoved and passionless a manner as he had done it. 

But he seemed to consider the taking of a human life as a thing not ofthe remotest consequence, and not to be considered at all as a matterwhich was to put any one out of the way, but as a thing to be done whennecessity required, with all the ease in the world, without arousing orawaking any of those feelings of remorse which one would suppose oughtto find a place in the heart of a man who had been guilty of suchmonstrous behaviour. 

He walked up to his own apartment again, and retired to rest with thesame feeling, apparently, of calmness, and the same ability to taste ofthe sweets of repose as had before characterized him. 

The stranger's horse, which was a valuable and beautiful animal, remained in the stable of the inn, and as, of course, that wasconsidered a guarantee for his return, the landlord, when he himselfretired to rest, left one of his establishment sitting up to let in theman who now lay so motionless and so frightful in appearance in one ofthe ice-wells of the mysterious passage leading from the base of thecliff, to the grounds of Anderbury House. 

But the night wore on, and the man who had been left to let the strangerin, after making many efforts to keep himself awake, dropped into soundrepose, which he might just as well have done in the first instance, inasmuch as, although he knew it not, he was engaged in the vain task ofwaiting for the dead. 

The morning was fresh and beautiful, and, at a far earlier hour than aperson of his quality was expected to make his appearance, the barondescended from his chamber; for, somehow or other, by common consent, itseems to be agreed that great personages must be late in rising, andequally late in going to bed. 

But the baron was evidently not so disposed to turn night into day, andthe landlord congratulated himself not a little upon the fact that hewas ready for his illustrious guest when he descended so unexpectedlyfrom his chamber as he did. 

An ample breakfast was disposed of; that is to say, it was placed uponthe table, and charged to the baron, who selected from it what hepleased; and when the meal was over the landlord ventured to enter theapartment, and said to him, with all due humility, --

"If you please, sir, Mr. Leek, who has the letting ofAnderbury-on-the-Mount, that is, Anderbury House, as it is usuallycalled, is here, sir, and would be happy to take your orders as to whenyou would be pleased to look at those premises?"

"I shall be ready to go in half a hour, " said the baron; "and, as thedistance is not great, I will walk from here to the mansion. "

This message was duly communicated to Mr. Leek, who thereupon determinedupon waiting until the baron should announce his readiness to departupon the expedition; and he was as good as his word, for, in abouthalf-an-hour afterwards, he descended to the hall, and then Mr. Leek wassummoned, who came out of the bar with such a grand rush, that he fellover a mat that was before him, and saluted the baron by digging hishead into his stomach, and then falling sprawling at his feet, andlaying hold of his ankle. 

This little incident was duly apologised for, and explained; after whichMr. Leek walked on through the town, towards Anderbury-on-the-Mount, followed by the illustrious personage whom he sincerely hoped he shouldbe able to induce to take it. 

It was a curious thing to see how they traversed the streets together;for while the baron walked right on, and with a solemn and measuredstep, Mr. Leek managed to get along a few paces in front of him, sideways, so that he could keep up a sort of conversation upon themerits of Anderbury House, and the neighbourhood in general, withoutmuch effort; to which remarks the baron made such suitable and dignifiedreplies as a baron would be supposed to make. 

"You will find, sir, " said Mr. Leek, "that everything about Anderbury isextremely select, and amazingly correct; and I am sure a more delightfulplace to live in could not be found. "

"Ah!" said the baron; "very likely. "

"It's lively, too, " continued Mr. Leek; "very lively; and there are twochapels of ease, besides the church. "

"That's a drawback, " said the baron. 

"A drawback, sir! well, I am sorry I mentioned it; but perhaps you are aRoman Catholic, sir, and, in that case, the chapels of ease have nointerest for you. "

"Not the slightest; but do not, sir, run away with any assumptionconcerning my religious opinions, for I am not a Roman Catholic. "

"No, sir, no, sir; nor more am I; and, as far as I think, and my opiniongoes, I say, why shouldn't a gentleman with a large fortune be what helikes, or nothing, if he likes that better? but here we are, sir, closeto one of the entrances of Anderbury House. There are three principalentrances, you understand, sir, on three sides of the estate, and thefourth side faces the sea, where there is that mysterious passage thatleads down from the grounds to the beach, which, perhaps, you have heardof, sir. "

"The landlord of the inn mentioned it. "

"We consider it a great curiosity, sir, I can assure you, in theseparts--a very great curiosity; and it's an immense advantage to thehouse, because, you see, sir, in extremely hot weather, all sorts ofprovisions can be taken down there, and kept at such a very lowtemperature as to be quite delightful. "

"That is an advantage. "

Mr. Leek rang the bell that hung over one of the entrances, and hissummons for admission was speedily answered by the old couple who hadcharge of the premises, and then, with a view of impressing them with anotion of the importance of the personage whom he had brought to look atthe place, he said, aloud, --

"The Baron Stoltmayor, of Saltsomething, has come to look at thepremises. "

This announcement was received with all due deference and respect, andthe task of showing the baron the premises at once fairly commenced. 

"Here you have, " said Mr. Leek, assuming an oratorical attitude--"hereyou have the umbrageous trees stooping down to dip their leaves in thepurling waters; here you have the sweet foliage lending a deliciousperfume to the balmy air; here you have the murmuring waterfalls playingmusic of the spheres to the listening birds, who sit responsive upon thedancing boughs; here you have all the fragrance of the briny ocean, mingling with the scent of a bank of violets, and wrapping the senses inElysium; here you may never tire of an existence that presentsnever-ending charms, and that, in the full enjoyment of which, you maylive far beyond the allotted span of man. "

"Enough--enough, " said the baron. 

"Here you have the choicest exotics taking kindly to a soil gifted bynature with the most extraordinary powers of production; and all thatcan pamper the appetite or yield delight to the senses, is scatteredaround by nature with a liberal hand. It is quite impossible thatroyalty should come near the favoured spot without visiting it as athing of course; and I forgot to mention that a revenue is derived fromsome cottages, which, although small, is yet sufficient to pay the titheon the whole estate. "

"There, there--that will do. "

"Here you have purling rills and cascades, and fish-ponds so redundantwith the finny tribe, that you have but to wish for sport, and it isyours; here you have in the mansion, chambers that vie with theaccommodation of a palace--ample dormitories and halls of ancientgrandeur; here you have--"

"Stop, " said the baron, "stop; I cannot be pestered in this way withyour description. I have no patience to listen to such mere words--showme the house at once, and let me judge for myself. "

"Certainly, sir; oh! certainly; only I thought it right to give you aslight description of the place as it really was: and now, sir, that wehave reached the house, I may remark that here we have--"

"Silence!" said the baron; "if you begin with here we have, I know notwhen you will leave off. All I require of you is to show me the place, and to answer any question which I may put to you concerning it. I willdraw my own conclusions, and nothing you can say, one way or another, will affect my imagination. "

"Certainly, sir, certainly; I shall only be too happy to answer anyquestions that may be put to me by a person of your lordship's greatintelligence; and all I can remark is, that when you reach thedrawing-room floor, any person may truly say, here you have--I reallybeg your pardon, sir--I had not the slightest intention of saying hereyou have, I assure you; but the words came out quite unawares, I assureyou. "

"Peace--peace!" cried again the baron; "you disturb me by this incessantclatter. "

Thus admonished, Mr. Leek was now quiet, and allowed the baron in hisown way to make what investigation he pleased concerning AnderburyHouse. 

The investigation was not one that could be gone over in ten minutes;for the house was extremely extensive, and the estate altogetherpresented so many features of beauty and interest, that it wasimpossible not to linger over it for a considerable period of time. 

The grounds were most extensive, and planted with such a regard to orderand regularity, everything being in its proper place, that it was apleasure to see an estate so well kept. And although the baron was not aman who said much, it was quite evident, by what little he did utter, that he was very well pleased with Anderbury-on-the-Mount. 

"And now, " said Mr. Leek, "I will do myself the pleasure, sir, ofshowing your grace the subterranean passage. "

At this moment a loud ring at one of the entrance gates was heard, andupon the man who had charge of the house answering the summons foradmission, he found that it was a gentleman, who gave a card on whichwas the name of Sir John Westlake, and who desired to see the premises. 

"Sir John Westlake, " said Mr. Leek; "oh! I recollect he did call at myoffice, and say that he thought of taking Anderbury-on-the-Mount. Agentleman of great and taste is Sir John, but I must tell him, baron, that you have the preference if you choose to embrace it. "

At this moment the stranger advanced, and when he saw the baron, hebowed courteously, upon which Mr. Leek said, --

"I regret, Sir John, that if you should take a fancy to the place, I amcompelled first of all to give this gentleman the refusal of it. "

"Certainly, " said Sir John Westlake; "do not let me interfere with anyone. I have nearly made up my mind, and came to look over the propertyagain; but of course, if this gentleman is beforehand with me, I must becontent. I wish particularly to go down to the subterranean passage tothe beach, if it is not too much trouble. "

"Trouble! certainly not, sir. Here, Davis, get some links, and we can goat once; and as this gentleman likewise has seen everything but thatstrange excavation, he will probably descend with us. "

"Certainly, " said the baron; "I shall have great pleasure;" and he saidit with so free and unembarrassed an air, that no one could havebelieved for a moment in the possibility that such a subject of fearfulinterest to him was there to be found. 

The entrance from the grounds into this deep cavernous place was in asmall but neat building, that looked like a summer-house; and now, torches being procured, and one lit, a door was opened, which conductedat once into the commencement of the excavation; and Mr. Leek headingthe way, the distinguished party, as that gentleman loved afterwards tocall it in his accounts of the transaction, proceeded into the verybowels of the earth, as it were, and quickly lost all traces of thedaylight. 

The place did not descend by steps, but by a gentle slope, which itrequired tome caution to traverse, because, being cut in the chalk, which in some places was worn very smooth, it was extremely slippery;but this was a difficulty that a little practice soon overcame, and asthey went on the place became more interesting every minute. 

Even the baron allowed Mr. Leek to make a speech upon the occasion, andthat gentleman said, --

"You will perceive that this excavation must have been made, at a greatexpense, out of the solid cliff, and in making it some of the mostcurious specimens of petrifaction and fossil remains were found. You seethat the roof is vaulted, and that it is only now and then a lump ofchalk has fallen in, or a great piece of flint; and now we come to oneof the ice-wells. "

They came to a deep excavation, down which they looked, and when the manheld the torch beneath its surface, they could dimly see the bottom ofit, where there was a number of large pieces of flint stone, and, apparently, likewise, the remains of broken bottles. 

"There used to be a windlass at the top of this, " said Mr. Leek, "andthe things were let down in a basket. They do say that ice will keep fortwo years in one of these places. "

"And are there more of these excavations?" said the baron. 

"Oh, dear, yes, sir; there are five or six of them for differentpurposes; for when the family that used to live in Anderbury House hadgrand entertainments, which they sometimes had in the summer season, they always had a lot of men down here, cooling wines, and passing themup from hand to hand to the house. "

From the gradual slope of this passage down to the cliffs, and thezigzag character of it, it may be well supposed that it was ofconsiderable extent. Indeed, Mr. Leek asserted that it was half a milein actual measured length. 

The baron was not at all anxious to run any risk of a discovery of thedead body which he had cast into that ice-well which was nearest to theopening on to the beach, so, as he went on, he negatived the differentproposals that were made to look down into the excavations, andsucceeded in putting a stop to that species of inquiry in the majorityof instances, but he could not wholly do so. 

Perhaps it would have been better for his purpose if he had encouraged alook into every one of the ice-wells; for, in that case, theirsimilarity of appearance might have tired out Sir John Westlake beforethey got to the last one; but as it was, when they reached the one downwhich the body had been precipitated, he had the mortification to hearMr. Leek say, --

"And now, Sir John, and you, my lord baron, as we have looked at thefirst of these ice wells and at none of the others, suppose we look atthe last. "

The baron was afraid to say anything; because, if the body werediscovered, and identified as that of the visitor at the inn, and whohad been seen last with him, any reluctance on his part to have thatice-well examined, might easily afterwards be construed into a verypowerful piece of circumstantial evidence against him. 

He therefore merely bowed his assent, thinking that the examinationwould be but a superficial one, and that, in consequence, he shouldescape easily from any disagreeable consequences. 

But this the fates ordained otherwise; and there seemed no hope of thatice-well in particular escaping such an investigation as was sure toinduce some uncomfortable results. 

"Davis, " said Mr. Leek, "these places are not deep, you see, and I wasthinking that if you went down one of them, it would be as well; forthen you would be able to tell the gentlemen what the bottom was fairlycomposed of, you understand. "

"Oh, I don't mind, sir, " said Davis. "I have been down one of thembefore to-day, I can tell you, sir. "

"I do not see the necessity, " said Sir John Westlake, "exactly, of sucha thing; but still if you please, and this gentleman wishes--"

"I have no wish upon the occasion, " said the baron; "and, like yourself, cannot see the necessity. "

"Oh, there is no trouble, " said Mr. Leek; "and it's better, now you arehere, that you see and understand all about it. How can you get down, Davis?"

"Why, sir, it ain't above fourteen feet altogether; so I sha'n't haveany difficulty, for I can hang by my hands about half the distance, anddrop the remainder. "

As he spoke he took off his coat, and then stuck the link he carriedinto a cleft of the rock, that was beside the brink of the excavation. 

The baron now saw that there would be no such thing as avoiding adiscovery of the fact of the dead body being in that place, and his onlyhope was, that in its descent it might have become so injured as to defyidentification. 

But this was a faint hope, because he recollected that he had himselfseen the face, which was turned upwards, and the period after death wasby far too short for him to have any hope that decomposition could havetaken place even to the most limited extent. 

The light, which was stuck in a niche, shed but a few inefficient raysdown into the pit, and, as the baron stood, with folded arms, lookingcalmly on, he expected each moment a scene of surprise and terror wouldensue. 

Nor was he wrong; for scarcely had the man plunged down into that deepplace, than he uttered a cry of alarm and terror, and shouted, --

"Murder! murder! Lift me out. There is a dead man down here, and I havejumped upon him. "

"A dead man!" cried Mr. Leek and Sir John Westlake in a breath. 

"How very strange!" said the baron. 

"Lend me a hand, " cried Davis; "lend me a hand out; I cannot stand this, you know. Lend me a hand out, I say, at once. "

This was easier to speak of than to do, and Mr. Davis began to discoverthat it was easier by far to get into a deep pit, than to get out ofone, notwithstanding that his assertion of having been down into thoseplaces was perfectly true; but then he had met with nothing alarming, and had been able perfectly at his leisure to scramble out the best wayhe could. 

Now, however, his frantic efforts to release himself from a much moreuncomfortable situation than he had imagined it possible for him to getinto, were of so frantic a nature, that he only half buried himself inpieces of chalk, which he kept pulling down with vehemence from thesides of the pit, and succeeded in accomplishing nothing towards hisrescue. 

"Oh! the fellow is only joking, " said the baron, "and amusing himself atour expense. "

But the manner in which the man cried for help, and the marked terrorwhich was in every tone, was quite sufficient to prove that he was notacting; for if he were, a more accomplished mimic could not have beenfound on the stage than he was. 

"This is serious, " said Sir John Westlake, "and cannot be allowed. Haveyou any ropes here by which we can assist him from the pit? Don't bealarmed, my man, for if there be a dead body in the pit, it can't harmyou. Take your time quietly and easily, and you will assuredly get out. "

"Aye, " said the baron, "the more haste, the worst speed, is an Englishproverb, and in this case it will be fully exemplified. This man wouldeasily leave the pit, if he would have the patience, with care andquietness, to clamber up its sides. "

It would appear that Davis felt the truth of these exhortations, foralthough he trembled excessively, he did begin to make some progress inhis ascent, and get so high, that Mr. Leek was enabled to get hold ofhis hand, and give him a little assistance, so that, in another minuteor so, he was rescued from his situation, which was not one of peril, although it was certainly one of fright. 

He trembled so excessively, and stuttered and stammered, that for someminutes no one could understand very well what he said; but at length, upon making himself intelligible, he exclaimed, --

"There has been a murder! there has been a murder committed, and thebody thrown into the ice pit. I felt that I jumped down upon somethingsoft, and when I put down my hand to feel what it was, it came across adead man's face, and then, of course, I called out. "

"You certainly did call out. "

"Yes, and so would anybody, I think, under such circumstances. I supposeI shall be hung now, because I had charge of the house?"

"That did not strike me until this moment, " said the baron; "but ifthere be a dead body in that pit, it certainly places this man in a veryawkward position. "

"What the deuce do you mean?" said Davis; "I don't know no more about itthan the child unborn. There is a dead man in the ice-well, and that isall I know about it; but whether he has been there a long time, or ashort time, I don't know any more than the moon, so it's no usebothering me about it. "

"My good man, " said the baron, "it would be very wrong indeed to imputeto you any amount of criminality in this business, since you may beentirely innocent; and I, for one, believe that you are so, for I cannotthink that any guilty man would venture into the place where he had putthe body of his victim, in the way that you ventured into that pit. Isay I cannot believe it possible, and therefore I think you innocent, and will take care to see that no injustice is done you; but at the sametime I cannot help adding, that I think, of course, you will findyourself suspected in some way. "

"I am very much obliged to you, sir, " said Davis; "but as I happen to bequite innocent, I am very easy about it, and don't care one straw whatpeople say. I have not been in this excavation for Heaven knows howlong. "

"But what's to be done?" said Mr. Leek. "I suppose it's our duty to dosomething, under such circumstances. "

"Unquestionably, " said the baron; "and the first thing to be done, is toinform the police of what has happened, so that the body may be got up;and as I have now seen enough of the estate to satisfy me as regards itscapabilities, I decide at once upon taking it, it I can agree upon theconditions of the tenancy, and I will purchase it, if the price be suchas I think suitable. "

"Well, " said Mr. Leek, "if anything could reconcile me to theextraordinary circumstance that has just occurred, it certainly is, baron, the having so desirable a tenant for Anderbury-on-the-Mount asyourself. But we need not traverse all this passage again, for it ismuch nearer now to get out upon the sea-coast at once, as we are soclose to the other opening upon the beach. It seems to me that we oughtto proceed at once to the town, and give information to the authoritiesof the discovery which we have made. "

"It is absolutely necessary, " said the baron, "so to do; so come alongat once. I shall proceed to my inn, and as, of course, I have seennothing more than yourselves, and consequently could only repeat yourevidence, I do not see that my presence is called for. Nevertheless, ofcourse, if the justices think it absolutely necessary that I shouldappear, I can have no possible objection to so do. "

This was as straightforward as anything that could be desired, and, moreover, it was rather artfully put together, for it seemed to implythat he, Mr. Leek, would be slighted, if his evidence was not consideredsufficient. 

"Of course, " said Mr. Leek; "I don't see at all why, as you, sir, haveonly the same thing to say as myself, I should not be sufficient. "

"Don't call upon me on any account, " said Sir John Westlake. 

"Oh! no, no, " cried Mr. Leek; "there is no occasion. I won't, you maydepend, if it can be helped. "

Sir John, in rather a nervous and excited manner, bade them good day, before they got quite into the town, and hurried off; while the baron, with a dignified bow, when he reached the door of his hotel, said to Mr. Leek, --

"Of course I do not like the trouble of judicial investigations morethan anybody else, and therefore, unless it is imperatively necessarythat I should appear, I shall take it as a favour to be released fromsuch a trouble. "

"My lord baron, " said Mr. Leek, "you may depend that I shall mentionthat to the magistrates and the coroner, and all those sort of people;"and then Mr. Leek walked away, but he muttered to himself, as he did so, "They will have him, as sure as fate, just because he is a baron; andhis name will look well in the 'County Chronicle. '"

Mr. Leek then repaired immediately to the house of one of the principalmagistrates, and related what had occurred, to the great surprise ofthat gentleman, who suggested immediately the propriety of making thefact known to the coroner of the district, as it was more his business, than a magistrate's, in the first instance, since nobody was accused ofthe offence. 

This suggestion was immediately followed, and that functionary directedthat the body should be removed from where it was to the nearestpublic-house, and immediately issued his precept for an inquiry into thecase. 

By this time the matter had begun to get bruited about in the town, andof course it went from mouth to mouth with many exaggerations; andalthough it by no means did follow that a murder had been committedbecause a dead body had been found, yet, such was the universalimpression; and the matter began to be talked about as the murder in thesubterranean passage leading to Anderbury House, with all the gustowhich the full particulars of some deed of blood was calculated toinspire. And how it spread about was thus:--

The fact was, that Mr. Leek was so anxious to let Anderbury-on-the-Mountto the rich Baron Stolmuyer, of Saltzburgh, that he got a friend of histo come and personate Sir John Westlake, while he, the baron, waslooking at the premises, in order to drive him at once to a conclusionupon the matter; so that what made Sir John so very anxious that heshould not be called forward in the matter, consisted in the simple factthat he was nothing else than plain Mr. Brown, who kept a hatter's shopin the town; but he could not keep his own counsel, and, instead ofholding his tongue, as he ought to have done, about the matter, he toldit to every one he met, so that in a short time it was generally knownthat something serious and startling had occurred in the subterraneanpassage to Anderbury House, and a great mob of persons thronged thebeach in anxious expectation of getting more information on the matter. 

The men, likewise, who had been ordered by the coroner to remove thebody, soon reached the spot, and they gave an increased impetus to theproceedings, by opening the door of the subterranean passage, and thenlooking earnestly along the beach as if in expectation of something orsomebody of importance. 

When eagerly questioned by the mob, for the throng of persons nowassembled quite amounted to a mob, to know what they waited for, one ofthem said, --

"A coffin was to have been brought down to take the body in. "

This announcement at once removed anything doubtful that might be in theminds of any of them upon the subject, and at once proclaimed the factnot only that there was a dead body, but that if they looked out theywould see it forthwith. 

The throng thickened, and by the time two men were observed approachingwith a coffin on their shoulders, there was scarcely anybody left in thetown, except a few rare persons, indeed, who were not so curious astheir neighbours. 

It was not an agreeable job, even to those men who were not the mostparticular in the world, to be removing so loathsome a spectacle as thatwhich they were pretty sure to encounter in the ice-well; but they didnot shrink from it, and, by setting about it as a duty, they got throughit tolerably well. 

They took with them several large torches, and then, one havingdescended into the pit, fastened a rope under the arms of the dead man, and so he was hauled out, and placed in the shell that was ready toreceive him. 

They were all surprised at the fresh and almost healthful appearance ofthe countenance, and it was quite evident to everybody that if any onehad known him in life, they could not have the least possible difficultyin recognising him now that he was no more. 

And the only appearance of injury which he exhibited was in thatdreadful wound which had certainly proved his death, and which wasobservable in his throat the moment they looked upon him. 

[Illustration]

The crush to obtain a sight of the body was tremendous at the moment itwas brought out, and a vast concourse of persons followed it inprocession to the town, where the greatest excitement prevailed. It waseasily discovered that no known person was missing, and some who hadcaught a sight of the body, went so far as to assert that it must havebeen in the ice-well for years, and that the extreme cold had preservedit in all its original freshness. 

The news, of course, came round, although not through the baron, for hedid not condescend to say one word about it at the inn, and it was thelandlord who first started the suggestion of--"What suppose it is thegentleman who left his horse here?"

This idea had no sooner got possession of his brain, than it each momentseemed to him to assume a more reasonable and tangible form, and withoutsaying any more to any one else about it, he at once started off towhere the body lay awaiting an inquest, to see if his suspicions werecorrect. 

When he arrived at the public-house and asked to see the body, he was atonce permitted to do so; for the landlord knew him, and was as curiousas he could be upon the subject by any possibility. One glance, ofcourse, was sufficient, and the landlord at once said, --

"Yes, I have seen him before, though I don't know his name. He came tomy house last night, and left his horse there; and, although I only sawhim for a moment as he passed through the hall, I am certain I am notmistaken. I dare say all my waiters will recognise him, as well as theBaron Stolmuyer of Saltzburgh, who is staying with me, and who no doubtknows very well who he is, for he went out with him late and came homealone, and I ordered one of my men to wait up all night in order to letin this very person who is now lying dead before us. "

"The deuce you did! But you don't suppose the baron murdered him, doyou?"

"It's a mystery to me altogether--quite a profound mystery. It's veryunlikely, certainly; and what's the most extraordinary part of the wholeaffair is, how the deuce could he come into one of the ice-wellsbelonging to Anderbury House. That's what puzzles me altogether. "

"Well, it will all come out, I hope, at the inquest, which is to be heldat four o'clock to day. There must have been foul play somewhere, butthe mystery is where, and that Heaven only knows, perhaps. "

"I shall attend, " said the landlord, "of course, to identify him; and Isuppose, unless anybody claims the horse, I may as well keep possessionof it. "

"Don't you flatter yourself that you will get the horse out of thetransaction. Don't you know quite well that the government takespossession of everything as don't belong to nobody?"

"Yes; but I have got him, and possession, you know, is nine points ofthe law. "

"It may be so; but their tenth point will get the better of you for allthat. You take my word for it, the horse will be claimed of you; but Idon't mind, as an old acquaintance, putting you up to a dodge. "

"In what way?"

"Why, I'll tell you what happened with a friend of mine; but don't thinkit was me for if it was I would tell you at once, so don't think it. Hekept a country public-house; and, one day, an elderly gentleman came in, and appeared to be unwell. He just uttered a word or two, and thendropped down dead. He happened to have in his fob a gold repeater, thatwas worth, at least a hundred guineas, and my friend, before anybodycame, took it out, and popped in, in its stead, an old watch that hehad, which was not worth a couple of pounds. "

"It was running a risk. "

"It was; but it turned out very well, because the old gentleman happenedto be a very eccentric person, and was living alone, so that his friendsreally did not know what he had, or what he had not, but took it forgranted that any watch produced belonged to him. So, if I were you inthis case, when the gentleman's horse is claimed. I'd get the d--destold screw I could, and let them have that. "

"You would?"

"Indeed would I, and glory in it, too, as the very best thing that couldbe done. Now, a horse is of use to you?"

"I believe ye, it is. "

"Exactly; but what's the use of it to government? and, what's more, ifit went to the government, there might be some excuse; but thegovernment will know no more about it, and make not so much as I shall. Some Jack-in-office will lay hold of it as a thing of course and aperquisite, when you might just as well, and a great deal better, too, keep it yourself, for it would do you some good, as you say, and none tothem. "

"I'll do it; it is a good and a happy thought. There is no reason onearth why I shouldn't do it, and I will. I have made up my mind to itnow. "

"Well, I am glad you have. What do you think now the dead man's horse isworth?"

"Oh! fifty or sixty guineas value. "

"Then very good. Then, when the affair is all settled, I will troubleyou for twenty pounds. 

"You?"

"Yes, to be sure. Who else do you suppose is going to interfere withyou? One is enough, ain't it, at a time; and I think, after giving yousuch advice as I have, that I am entitled, at all events, to something. "

"I tell you what, " said the landlord of the hotel, "taking all thingsinto consideration, I have altered my mind rather, and won't do it. "

"Very good. You need not; only mind, if you do, I am down upon you likea shot. "

The excitement contingent upon the inquest was very great; indeed, thelarge room in the public-house, where it was held, was crowded tosuffocation with persons who were anxious to be present at theproceedings. When the landlord reached home, of course he told hisguest, the baron, of the discovery he had made, that the murdered manwas the strange visitor of the previous night; for now, from thefrightful wound he had received in his throat, the belief that he wasmurdered became too rational a one to admit of any doubts, and was thatwhich was universally adopted in preference to any other suggestion uponthe occasion; although, no doubt, people would be found who would notscruple to aver that he had cut his own throat, after making his wayinto the well belonging to Anderbury House. 

The landlord had his own misgivings concerning his guest, the baron, nowthat something had occurred of such an awful and mysterious a nature toone who was evidently known to him. It did not seem to be a pleasantthing to have such an intimate friend of a man who had been murdered inone's house, especially when it came to be considered that he was thelast person seen in his company, and that, consequently, he waspeculiarly called upon to give an explanation of how, and under whatcircumstances, he had parted with him. 

The baron was sitting smoking in the most unconcerned manner in theworld, when the landlord came to bring him this intelligence, and, whenhe had heard him to an end, the remark he made was, --

"Really, you very much surprise me; but, perhaps, as you are betteracquainted with the town than I am, you can tell me who he was?"

"Why, sir, that is what we hoped you would be able to tell us. "

"How should I tell you? He introduced himself to me as a Mr. Mitchell, asurveyor, and he said that, hearing I talked of purchasing or rentingAnderbury-on-the-Mount, he came to tell me that the principal side wall, that you could see from the beach, was off the perpendicular. "

"Indeed, sir!"

"Yes; and as this was a very interesting circumstance to me, consideringthat I really did contemplate such a purchase or renting, and do sostill, as it was a moonlight night, and he said he could show me in aminute what he meant if I would accompany him, I did so; but when we gotthere, and on the road, I heard quite enough of him to convince me thathe was a little out of his senses, and, consequently, I paid no moreattention to what he said, but walked home and left him on the beach. "

"It's a most extraordinary circumstance, sir; there is no such person, Iassure you, as Mitchell, a surveyor, in the town; so I can't make it outin the least. "

"But, I tell you, I consider the man out of his senses, and perhaps thatmay account for the whole affair. "

"Oh, yes, sir, that would, certainly; but still, it's a very odd thing, because we don't know of such a person at all, and it does seem soextraordinary that he should have made his appearance, all of a sudden, in this sort of way. I suppose, sir, that you will attend the inquest, now, that's to be held upon him?"

"Oh, yes; I have no objection whatever to that; indeed, I feel myselfbound to do so, because I suppose mine is the latest evidence that canbe at all produced concerning him. "

"Unquestionably, sir; our coroner is a very clever man, and you will beglad to know him--very glad to know him, sir, and he will be glad toknow you, so I am sure it will be a mutual gratification. It's at fouro'clock the inquest is to be, and I dare say, sir, if you are there byhalf-past, it will be time enough. "

"No doubt of that; but I will be punctual. "

We have already said the room in which the inquest was to be held wascrowded almost to suffocation, and not only was that the case, but thelower part of the house was crammed with people likewise; and there canbe very little doubt but the baron would have shrunk from such aninvestigation from a number of curious eyes, if he could have done so;while the landlord of the house would have had no objection, as far ashis profit was concerned in the sale of a great quantity of beer andspirits, to have had such an occurrence every day in the week, ifpossible. 

The body lay still in the shell where it had been originally placed. After it had been viewed by the jury, and almost every one had remarkedupon the extraordinary fresh appearance it wore, they proceeded at onceto the inquiry, and the first witness who appeared was Mr. Leek, whodeposed to have been in company with some gentlemen viewing AnderburyHouse, and to have found the body in one of the ice-wells of thatestablishment. 

This evidence was corroborated by that of Davis, who had so unexpectedlyjumped into the well, without being aware that it contained already sodisagreeable a visitor as it did in the person of the murdered man, regarding the cause of whose death the present inquiry was instituted. 

Then the landlord identified the body as that of a gentleman who hadcome to his house on horseback, and who had afterwards walked out withBaron Stolmuyer of Saltzburgh, who was one of his guests. 

"Is that gentleman in attendance?" said the coroner. 

"Yes, sir, he is; I told him about it, and he has kindly come forward togive all the evidence in his power concerning it. "

There was a general expression of interest and curiosity when the baronstepped forward, attired in his magnificent coat, trimmed with fur, andtendered his evidence to the coroner, which, of course, was preciselythe same as the statement he had made to the landlord of the house; for, as he had made up such a well connected story, he was not likely toprevaricate or to depart from it in the smallest particular. 

He was listened to with breathless attention, and, when he hadconcluded, the coroner, with a preparatory hem! said to him, "And you have reason to suppose, sir, that this person was out of hissenses?"

"It seemed to me so; he talked wildly and incoherently, and in such amanner as to fully induce such a belief. "

"You left him on the beach?"

"I did. I found when I got there that it was only a very small portion, indeed, of Anderbury House that was visible; and, although the moonshone brightly, I must confess I did not see, myself, any signs ofdeviation from the perpendicular; and, such being the case, I left thespot at once, because I could have no further motive in staying; and, moreover, it was not pleasant to be out at night with a man whom Ithought was deranged. I regretted, after making this discovery, that Ihad come from home on such a fool's errand; but as, when one is going toinvest a considerable sum of money in any enterprise, one is naturallyanxious to know all about it, I went, little suspecting that the man wasinsane. "

"Did you see him after that?"

"Certainly not, until to-day, when I recognised in the body that hasbeen exhibited to me the same individual. "

"Gentlemen, " said the coroner to the jury, "it appears to me that thisis a most mysterious affair; the deceased person has a wound in histhroat, which, I have no doubt, you will hear from a medical witness hasbeen the cause of death; and the most singular part of the affair is, how, if he inflicted it upon himself, he has managed to dispose of theweapon with which he did the deed. "

"The last person seen in his company, " said one of the jury, "was thebaron, and I think he is bound to give some better explanation of theaffair. "

"I am yet to discover, " said the baron, "that the last person whoacknowledges to having been in the company of a man afterwards murdered, must, of necessity, be the murderer?"

"Yes; but how do you account, sir, for there being no weapon found bywhich the man could have done the deed himself?"

"I don't account for it at all--how do you?"

"This is irregular, " said the coroner; "call the next witness. "

This was a medical man, who briefly stated that he had seen thedeceased, and that the wound in his throat was amply sufficient toaccount for his death; that it was inflicted with a sharp instrumenthaving an edge on each side. 

This, then, seemed to conclude the case, and the coroner remarked, --

"Gentlemen of the jury, --I think this is one of those peculiar cases inwhich an open verdict is necessary, or else an adjournment without date, so that the matter can be resumed at any time, if fresh evidence can beprocured concerning it. There is no one accused of the offence, althoughit appears to me impossible that the unhappy man could have committedthe act himself. We have no reason to throw the least shade of suspicionor doubt upon the evidence of the Baron Stolmuyer of Saltzburgh; for asfar as we know anything of the matter, the murdered man may have been inthe company of a dozen people after the baron left him. "

A desultory conversation ensued, which ended in an adjournment of theinquest, without any future day being mentioned for its re-assembling, and so the Baron Stolmuyer entirely escaped from what might have been avery serious affair to him. 

It did not, however, appear to shake him in his resolution of takingAnderbury-on-the-Mount, although Mr. Leek very much feared it would; buthe announced to that gentleman his intention fully of doing so, and toldhim to get the necessary papers drawn up forthwith. 

"I hope, " he said, "within a few weeks' time to be fairly installed inthat mansion, and then I will trouble you, Mr. Leek, to give me a listof the names of all the best families in the neighbourhood; for I intendgiving an entertainment on a grand scale in the mansion and grounds. "

"Sir, " said Mr. Leek, "I shall, with the greatest pleasure, attend uponyou in every possible way in this affair. This is a very excellentneighbourhood, and you will have no difficulty, I assure you, sir, ingetting together an extremely capital and creditable assemblage ofpersons. There could not be a better plan devised for at onceintroducing all the people who are worth knowing, to you. "

"I thank you, " said the baron; "I think the place will suit me well;and, as the Baroness Stolmuyer of Saltzburgh is dead, I have some ideaof marrying again; and therefore it becomes necessary and desirable thatI should be well acquainted with the surrounding families of distinctionin this neighbourhood. "

This was a hint not at all likely to be thrown away upon Mr. Leek, whowas the grand gossip-monger of the place, and he treasured it up inorder to see if he could not make something of it which would beadvantageous to himself. 

He knew quite enough of the select and fashionable families in thatneighbourhood, to be fully aware that neither the baron's age nor hisugliness would be any bar to his forming a matrimonial alliance. 

"There is not one of them, " he said to himself, "who would not marry thevery devil himself and be called the Countess Lucifer, or any name ofthe kind, always provided there was plenty of money: and that the baronhas without doubt, so it is equally without doubt he may pick and choosewhere he pleases. "

This was quite correct of Mr. Leek, and showed his great knowledge ofhuman nature; and we entertain with him a candid opinion, that if theBaron Stolmuyer of Saltzburgh had been ten times as ugly as he was, andHeaven knows that was needless, he might pick and choose a wife almostwhen he pleased. 

This is a general rule; and as, of course, to all general rules thereare exceptions, this one cannot be supposed to be free from them. Underall circumstances, and in all classes of society, there aresingle-minded beings who consult the pure dictates of their own hearts, and who, disdaining those things which make up the amount of theambition of meaner spirits, stand aloof as bright and memorable examplesto the rest of human nature. 

Such a being was Flora Bannerworth. She would never have been found tosacrifice herself to the fancied advantages of wealth and station, butwould have given her heart and hand to the true object of her affection, although a sovereign prince had made the endeavour to wean her from it.