Varni the Vampire by Thomas Prescott-Prest, CHAPTER XVV. CHAPTER XVV. THE ARRIVAL OF JACK PRINGLE, MIDNIGHT IN THE VAMPIRE, THE MISTERIOUS HAT. Bless me, what is that? said Mr. Chillingworth. What a very singular sound. Hold your noise, said the admiral. Did you never hear that before? No, how should I? Lord, bless the ignorance of some people. That's a boatswain's call. Oh, it is, said Mr. Chillingworth. Is he going to call again? I tell you, it's a boatswain's call. Well then, if it comes to that, said Mr. Chillingworth, what does he call here for? The admiral disdained an answer, but demanding the lantern, he opened it so that there was sufficient glimmering of light to guide him, and then walked from the room towards the front door of the hall. He asked no questions before he opened it, because, no doubt, the signal was pre-conserted, and Jack Pringle, for it was he indeed who had arrived, at once walked in, and the admiral barred the door with the same precision with which it was before secured. Well, Jack, he said, did you see anybody? Aye, aye, sir, said Jack. Why, you don't mean that, where? Where I bought the grub, a woman.  Hello, ye scoundrel. What do you mean by talking to me in that way? Is this your respect for your superiors?  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'd be careful in that everything depended upon secrecy and caution, and didn't I tell you above all this to avoid drink? To be sure you did.  Yes, now you've had your say what then. You'd better leave him alone, said Mr. Chillingworth. It's no use arguing with a drunken man. Hark ye, Admiral, said Jack, setting himself as well as he could. I've put up with you a precious long while, but I won't no longer.  That's my opinion, told a roll. 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 a matter of twenty years. He never had any judgment in his drink. When it was all smooth sailing and nothing to do, and the fellow might have got an extra drop on board, which nobody would have cared for, he's as sober as a judge. But whenever there's anything to do that wants a little cleverness, confound him, he ships rum enough to float a seventy-four. Are you going to stand anything to drink, said Jack, my old buffer?   I was shamed of you. Do you recollect the brown girl you bought 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 his natural pumps?   Do you recollect Saul at Spithead as you got in at a porthole of the stade cabin, all but her behind? Death and the devil, said the admiral, breaking the grasp of Mr. Chillingworth.   Nay, nay, sir, said Mr. Chillingworth, catching the admiral round the waist. My dear sir, recollect now if I may venture to advise you, Admiral Bell. There's a lot of that fiery Hollins, you know. In the next room, sit him down to that and finish him off. I'll warn him he'll be quiet enough. What's that you say, cried Jack? Hollins, who's got any? Next to Rahm and Elizabeth Baker, if I has an affection, it's Hollins. Jack, said the admiral. Aye, aye, sir, said Jack instinctively. Come this way. Jack staggered after him and they all reached the room where the admiral and Mr. Chillingworth had been sitting before the alarm. There, said the admiral, putting the light upon the table and pointing to the bottle. What do you think of that? I never think, Sunder such circumstances, said Jack. Here's to the wooden walls of old England. He seized the bottle and putting its neck into his mouth. For a few moments nothing was heard but a gurgling sound of the liquor passing down 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 of intoxication on the floor. So far so good, said the admiral. He's out of the way at all events. I'll just loosen his neck cloth, said Mr. Chillingworth and then we'll go and sit somewhere else and I should recommend that if anywhere we take up our station in that chamber, once Flora's, where the mysterious paneled portrait hangs that bear so strong a resemblance to Varney the Vampire. Hush, said the admiral, what's that? They listened for a moment intently and then distinctly upon the gravel path outside the window, they heard a footstep as if some person were walking along not altogether heedlessly but yet without any very great amount of caution or attention to the noise he might make. Hest, said the doctor, not a word, they come. What do you say they for, said the admiral? Because something seems to whisper to me that Mr. Marchdale knows more of Varney the Vampire than ever he has chosen to reveal, put out the light. Yes, yes, that'll do, the moon has risen. See how it streams through the chinks of the shutters? No, no, it's not in that direction or our light would have betrayed us. Do you not see the beams come from that half-glass door leading to the greenhouse? Yes, and there's a 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 of our force, I would tackle them. Let's creep on through the rooms in the direction the footsteps went. My life on it, said Mr. Chillingworth as they left the apartment. If this be Varney, he makes for that apartment where Flora slept and which he knows how to get admission to. I've studied the house well, Admiral, and to get to that window, anyone from here outside must take a considerable round. Come on, we shall be beforehand. A good idea, good idea, be it so. Just allowing themselves sufficient light to guide them on the way from the lantern, they hurried on with as much precipitation as the intricacies of the passage would allow, nor halted till they had reached the chamber where hung the portrait which bore so striking and remarkable likeness to Varney, the vampire. They left the lamp outside the door so that not even a struggling beam from it could betray that there were persons on the watch. And then, as quietly as foot could fall, they took up their station among the hangings of the antique bedstead, which has been before alluded to in this work as a remarkable piece of furniture appertaining to that apartment. 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 strange-looking shadow creeping over it? Mr. Chillingworth looked almost with suspended breath. Even he could not altogether get rid of a tremulous feeling as he saw that the shadow of a human form, apparently of very large dimensions, was on the outside with the arms spread out as if feeling for some means of opening the window. It would have been easy now to have fired one of the pistols direct upon the figure, but somehow or another, both the admiral and Mr. Chillingworth shrank from that course, and they felt much rather inclined to capture whoever might make his appearance only using their pistols as a last resource, then gratuitously and at once to resort to violence. Who should you say that was? whispered the admiral. Farny the Vampire. He's ill-looking and big enough for anything. There's noise. There was a strange cracking sound at the window as if a pane of glass was being very stealthily and quietly broken, and then the blind was agitated slightly, confusing much the shadow that was cast upon it as if the hand of some person was introduced for the purpose of affecting a complete 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 labor we have bestowed upon the matter. But did you not say something admiral about lying under 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 will be in in a minute. Here goes, said the admiral. I never suggest anything which I am unwilling to do myself. Whoever it was that now was making such strenuous exertions to get into the apartment seemed to find some difficulty as regarding the fastenings of the window, and as this difficulty increased, the patience of the party, as well as his caution, deserted him, and the casement was rattled with violence. With a far greater amount of caution than anyone from a knowledge of his character would have given him credit for, the admiral crept forward and laid himself exactly under the window. The depth of the woodwork from the floor to the lowest part of the window frame did not exceed above two feet, so that anyone could conveniently step in from the balcony outside onto the floor of the apartment, which was just what he who was attempting to affect an entrance was desirous of doing. It was quite clear that, be he who he might, mortal or vampire, he had some acquaintance with the fastening of the window, for now he succeeded in moving it and the sash was thrown open. The blind was still an obstacle, but a vigorous pull from the intruder brought that down on the prostate admiral, and then Mr. Chillingworth saw by the moonlight a tall gaunt figure standing in the balcony, as if just hesitating for a moment whether to get head first or feet first into the apartment. Had he chosen the former alternative, he would need indeed to have been endowed with more than mortal powers of defense and offense to escape capture, but his lucky star was in the ascendancy and he put his foot in first. He turned his side to the apartment and as he did so, the bright moonlight fell upon his face, enabling Mr. Chillingworth to see without the shadow of a doubt that it was indeed Varney the Vampire, who was thus stealthily making his entrance into Bannerworth Hall, according to the calculation which had been made by the admiral upon that subject. The doctor scarcely knew whether to be pleased or not at this discovery and it was almost a terrifying one, skeptical as he was upon the subject of vampires and he waited breathless for the issue of the singular and perilous adventure. No doubt admiral Bell deeply congratulated himself upon the success which was about to crown his stratagem for the capture of the intruder, be he who he might, as he writhed with impatience for the foot to come sufficiently near to enable him to grasp it. His patience was not severely tried for in another moment arrested upon his chest. Borders ahoy, shout of the admiral, and at once he laid hold of the trespasser. Yard arm to yard arm, I think I've got you now. Here's a prize doctor, he shall go away without his leg if he goes away now. Hey, what? The light, nay. He has doctor, the light, the light. Why what's this? Hello there. Doctor Chillingworth sprang into the passage and procured the light. In another moment he was at the side of the admiral and the lantern slide being thrown back. He saw at once the dilemma into which his friend had fallen. There he lay upon his back grasping with the vehemence of an embrace that had in it much of the ludicrous a long boot from which the intruder had cleverly slipped his leg, leaving it as a poor trophy in the hands of his enemies. Why, you've only pulled his boot off, said the doctor, and now he's gone for good for he knows what we're about and has slipped through your 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 the leg while you were about it instead of the boot? Admiral, are these your tactics?  Put out the light and give me the pistols or blaze away yourself into the garden. A chance shot may do something. It's no use running after him.  As if some parties below had heard him give his word, two loud reports from the garden immediately ensued and a crash of glass testified to the fact that some deadly missile had entered the room. Murder, said the doctor, and he fell flat upon his back. I don't like this 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 had brought into the room, and in another moment, he, to use his own words, returned the broadside of the enemy. He said, this puts me in mind of old times. Blaze away, you thieves, while I load, broadside to broadside. It's your turn now. I scorn to take an advantage. What the devil's that? Something very large and very heavy came banging against the window, sending it all into the room and nearly smothering the admiral with the fragments. Another shot was then fired, and in came something else, which hit the wall on the opposite side of the room, rebounding from thence on to the doctor who gave a yell of despair. After that, all was still. The enemy seemed to be satisfied that they had silenced the garrison. And it took the admiral a great deal of kicking and plunging to rescue himself from some super-incumbent mass that was upon him, which seemed to him to be a considerable-sized tree. Call this fair fighting, he shouted, getting a man's legs and arms tangled up like a piece of Indian matting in the branches of a tree. Doctor, I say, helloa, where are you? I don't know, said the doctor, but there's somebody getting into the balcony. 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 the center of the floor. And then, after rolling and writhing about in a most singular manner, slowly got up. And with various preliminary hiccups said, come on, you lovers, many of you is like, I'm the tar for all others. White, said the admiral. It's Jack Pringle. Yes it is, said Jack, who is not sufficiently sober to recognize the admiral's voice. I seizes how you've heard of me. Come on, all of you. Why, Jack, you scoundrel, word the admiral, how came you here? Don't you know me? I'm your admiral, you horse marine. Eh, said Jack. Aye, aye, sir, how came you here?  Boarded the enemy. The enemy you boarded was us, and hang me if I didn't think you haven't been pouring broadsides into us while the enemy were scutting before the wind in another direction. Floor, said Jack. Explain you scoundrel directly, explain. Well, that's only reasonable, said Jack, and giving a heavier alert than usual, he sat down with a great bounce upon the floor. You see, it's just this here. When I was a-coming, of course I heard, just as I was a-going, that heirs made me come all in consequence of somebody a-going, or for to come, you see, admiral. Doctor, cried the admiral, in a great rage, just help me out of this entanglement of branches, and I'll rid the world from an encumbrance by smashing that fellow. Smash yourself, said Jack. You know you're drunk. My dear admiral, said Mr. Chillingworth, laying hold of one of his legs and pulling it very hard, which brought his face into a lot of brambles. We're making a mess of this business. Murder, shouted the admiral. You are indeed, is that what you call pulling me out of it? You've stuck me fast. I'll manage it, said Jack. I've seen him in many a-scrape and I've seen him out. You pull me, doctor, and I'll pull him. Yahoy! Jack laid hold of the admiral by the scruff of the neck, and the doctor laid hold of Jack around the waist, the consequence of which was that he was dragged out from the branches of the tree, which seemed to have been thrown into the room, and down fell both Jack and the doctor. At this instant there was a strange hissing sound heard below the window. Then there was a sudden loud report, as if a hand grenade had gone 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 the living, 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 moon-beam streamed in upon the floor of the apartment, as if nothing had occurred to disturb the rapt repose and serenity of the scene. CHAPTER 56 THE WARNING THE NEW PLAN OF OPERATION THE INSULTING MESSAGE FROM VARNEY So much of the night had been consumed in these operations, but by the time they were over, and the three personages who lay upon the floor of what might be called the Haunted Chamber of Bannerworth Hall, even had they now been disposed to seek repose, would have had a short time to do so before the daylight, would have streamed in upon them, and roused them to the bustle of waking existence. It may be well believed that a vast amount of surprise came over the three persons in that chamber, at the last little circumstance that had occurred in connection with the night's proceedings. There was nothing which had preceded that, and did not resemble a genuine attack upon the premises. But about the last mysterious appearance, with its curious light, there was quite enough to bother the Admiral and Jack Pringle to a considerable effect. Whatever might be the effect upon Mr. Chillingworth, whose profession better enabled him to comprehend chemically, what would produce effects that, no doubt, astonished them amazingly. What with his intoxication and the violent exercise he had taken, Jack was again thoroughly prostrate, while the Admiral could not have looked more astonished had the evil one himself appeared in Paporia persona and given him notice to quit the premises. He was, however, the first to speak, and the words he spoke were addressed 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 aye aye, sir, and Mr. Chillingworth, slowly getting himself up to his feet, approached the Admiral. It's hard to say so much Admiral Bell, he said, but it strikes me that whatever object this Sir Francis Varni, of Varni the Vampire, has in coming into Bannerworth Hall, it is, at all events, of sufficient importance to induce him to go any length and not to let even a life to stand in the way of its accomplishment. Well, it seems so, said the Admiral, for I'll be hanged if I can make head or tail of the fellow. If we value our personal safety, we shall hesitate to continue a perilous adventure which I think can end only in defeat if not in death. But we don't value our personal safety, said the Admiral. We've got into the adventure and I don't see why we shouldn't carry it out. It may be growing a little serious, but what of that? For the sake of that young 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 it may, but mind you, Mr. Chillingworth, if one man chooses to go upon a desperate service, that's no reason why he should ask another to do so. I understand you, said Mr. Chillingworth, but having commenced the adventure with you, I am not the man to desert you in it. We have committed 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, we should 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 Pringle hadn't made such a fool of himself, we should have managed very well, and I don't know how he came to behave in the manner he did. Nor I, said Mr. Chillingworth, but at all events, so far as the results go, it is quite clear that any further watching in this house for the appearance of Sir Francis Varney will now be in vain. He has nothing to do now but to keep quiet until we are tired out, a fact concerning which he can easily obtain information, and then he immediately, without trouble, walks into the premises to his own satisfaction. But what the juice can he want upon the premises? That question, Admiral, induces me to think that we have made another mistake. We ought not to have attempted to surprise Sir Francis Varney in coming into Banner Whithall, but to catch him as he came out. Well, there's something in that, said the Admiral. This is a pretty nice business, to be sure. However, it can't be helped. It's done, and there's an end to it. And now, as the morning is near at hand, I certainly must confess I should like to get some breakfast, although I don't like that we should all leave the house together. Why? said Mr. Chillingworth. As we have now no secret to keep with regard to our being here, because the principal person we wish to keep it from is aware of it, I think we cannot do better than send at once for Henry Banner Whithall, tell him of the non-success of the effort we have made in his behalf, and admit him at once into our consultation of what is next to be done. Agreed, agreed. I think that, without troubling him, we might have captured this Varney, but that's over now, and as soon as Jack Pringle chooses to wake up again, I'll send him to the Banner Whiths with a message. Aye aye sir, said Jack suddenly. All's right. Why you vagabond? said the Admiral. I do believe you've been shamming. Shamming what? Being drunk, to be sure. Law couldn't do it, said Jack. I'll just tell you how it was. I wakened up and found myself shut in somewhere, and as I couldn't get out of the door, I thought I'd try the window. And there I did get out, while perhaps I wasn't quite the thing, but I seized two people in the garden, are looking up at this ear room, and to be sure I thought it was you and the doctor. Well, it weren't no business of mine to interfere, so I cede what if you climb up the balcony, as I thought, and then after which came down, head over heels with such a run, that I thought you must have broken your neck. Well, after that you fired a couple of shots in, 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.  Well then, confound you, if it comes to that, I thought I was doing you good service, and that the enemy was here, when all the while it turned out as you was, and the enemy wasn't, and the enemy was outside, and 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 that off, I was forced to make up a broadside with what I could.  Doctor, doctor, you talked of us making two mistakes, but you forgot a third, and worse one still, and that was the bringing such a lobbyist son of a sea-cock into the place as this fellow. You're another, said Jack, and you know 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 the best. I wish you'd do them, what he considers for the worst next time. Perhaps I may, said Jack. And then you will be served out above a bit. What would become of you? I wonder if it wasn't for me.  Come, come, Admiral, said Mr. Chillingworth. Come down to the garden gate. It is now just upon a daybreak, and the probability is that we shall not be long there before we see some of the country people who will get as anything we require in the shape of refreshment. And as for Jack, he seems quite sufficiently recovered now to go to the Bannerworths. All I can go, said Jack. As for that, the only thing that puts me out of the way is the want or something to drink, my constitution won't stand what they call temperance living, or nothing with the chill-off. Go at once, said the Admiral, and tell Mr. Henry Bannerworth that we are here, but do not tell him before his sister or his mother if you meet anybody on the road, send them here with a cargo of victuals. It strikes me that a good, comfortable breakfast wouldn't be at all a missed doctor. How rapidly the day dawns, remarked Mr. Chillingworth, as he walked into the balcony from whence Varni the Vampire had attempted to make good his entrance to the hall. Just as he spoke, and before Jack Pringle, who'd get half-way over to the Garden Gate, there came a tremendous ring at the bell, which was suspended over it. A view of that gate could not be commanded from the window of the haunted apartment, so that they could not see who it was that demanded admission. As Jack Pringle was going down at any rate, they saw no necessity for personal interference, and he proved that there was not, by presently returning with a note which he said had been thrown over the gate by a lad, who then scampered off with all the speed he could make. The note exteriorly was well got up, and had all the appearance of great 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 great wonder, came at last to the conclusion that probably to open it would be the shortest way of arriving at a knowledge of who had sent it, and he accordingly 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 Walmsley 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, tumble servant, Francis Barney. The Admiral gasped again and looked at Mr. Chillingworth, and then at the note, and then at Mr. Chillingworth again as if he was perfectly bewildered. That's about the coolest piece of business, says Mr. Chillingworth, that ever I heard of. Hang me, said the Admiral. If I shan't like the fellow at last, it is cool, and I like it because it is cool. Where's my hat? Where's my stick? What are you going to do? Get his invitation, to be sure, and breakfast with him. And my learned friend, as he calls you, I hope you'll come likewise. I'll take the fellow at his word, by fair means or by foul. I'll know what he wants here, and why he persecutes this family, for whom I have an attachment, 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 the bottom of that affair. Where is this one's the lodge? Just in the neighbourhood, but— Come on, then, come on! But really, Admiral, you don't mean to say you'll breakfast with— A vampire? Yes, I would, and will, I mean to do so. Here, Jack, you needn't go to Mr. Bannerliths yet. Come, my learned friend, let's take time by the forelock. End of chapter 56. Chapter 57 of Varney the Vampire. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Roger Maline. Varney the Vampire, Volume 1 by Thomas Prescott Prest. Chapter 57 The Interrupted Breakfast at Sir Francis Varney's. Notwithstanding all Mr. Chillingworth could say to the contrary, the Admiral really meant to breakfast with Sir Francis Varney. The worthy doctor could not for some time believe, but that the Admiral must be joking, when he talked in such a strain, but he was very soon convinced to the contrary, by the latter actually walking out, and once more 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 I have begun the adventure with you, I will conclude it with you. That's right, said the Admiral. I'm not deceived in you, doctor, so come along. Hang these vampires. I don't know how to tackle them myself. I think, after all, Sir Francis Varney is more in your line than he is in mine. How do you mean? Why, couldn't you persuade him he's ill and wants some physics? That would soon settle him, you know. Settle him, said Mr. Chillingworth. I beg to say, that if I did give him any physics, the dose would be much to his advantage. But, however, my opinion is that this invitation to breakfast is, after all, a mere piece of irony, and that when we get to Walmsley Lodge, we shall not see anything of him. On the contrary, we shall probably find it's a hoax. I certainly should like that, but still it's worth a trying. The fellow 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 vampire, even when you have him by the leg? No, that ain't it. Though that's a very good thing in its way. But it is just this, that Sir Francis Varney, whoever he is and whatever he is, is after Bannewerth Hall and not the Bannewerth family. If you recollect, Mr. Chillingworth, in our conversation I have always insisted upon that fact. You have, and it seems to me to be completely verified by the proceedings of the night. There, then, Admiral, is the great mystery. What can he want at Bannewerth Hall that makes him take such a world 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 to breakfast, I shall ask him plumply and tell him at the same time that possibly his very best way to secure his object will be to be candid, vampire as he is. But really, Admiral, you do not still cling to that foolish superstition of believing that Sir Francis Varney is in reality a vampire? I don't know, and I can't say. If anybody was to give me a description of a strange sort of fish that I had never seen, I wouldn't take upon myself to say there ain't such a thing, nor would you, doctor, and if you had really seen the many odd ones that I have encountered at various times. Well, well, Admiral, I'm certainly not belonging to that school of philosophy which declares the impossible to be what I don't understand. There may be vampires and there may be apparitions for all I know to the contrary. I only doubt these things, because I think, if they were true, that as a phenomena of nature they would have been by this time established by repeated instances without the possibility of doubt or cavill. 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 looking gates and that cedar tree stretching its dark green foliage so far into the road. This is Wamsley Lodge, whither you have been invited. And you, my learned friend, recollect that you were invited, too, so that you are no intruder upon the hospitality of Varney the Vampire. I say, Admiral, said Mr. Chillingworth, when they reached the gates, you know it is not quite the thing to call a man a vampire at his own breakfast-table, so just oblige me by promising not to make any such remark to Sir Francis. A likely thing, said the Admiral. He knows I know what he is, and he knows I'm a plain man and a blunt speaker. However, I'll be civil to him, and more than that I can't promise. I must wring out of him, if I can, what has become of Charles Holland and what the deuce he really wants 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 Wamsley Lodge and was in a few moments 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, for something or other. I'm sure I don't know what. By some people I'm sure I don't know who. So as the lodge was to let, we have took him in till he can suit himself. Ah, that's it, is it? said the Admiral. Tell him that Admiral Bell and Dr. Chillingworth are here. Very well, said the woman. You may walk in. Thank you. You're vastly obliging, ma'am. Is there anything going on in the breakfast line? Well, yes, I am getting him some breakfast, but he didn't say he expected company. The woman opened the garden gate and they walked up a trimly laid-out garden to the lodge, which was a cottage-like structure and external appearance, although within it boasted of all the comforts of a tolerably extensive house. She left them in a small room leading from the hall and was absent about five minutes. When she returned, and merely saying that Sir Francis Varney presented his compliments and desired them to walk upstairs, she proceeded them up a handsome flight which led to the first floor of the lodge. Up to this moment Mr. Chillingworth had expected some excuses, for notwithstanding all he had heard and seen of Sir Francis Varney, he could not believe that any amount of impudence would suffice to enable him to receive people as his guests, with whom he must feel that he was at such positive war. It was a singular circumstance, and perhaps the only thing that matched the cool impertinence of the invitation was the acceptance of it 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 be beaten with his own weapons. The room into which they were shown was a longish, narrow one. A very wide door gave them admission to it, and at the end, nearest the staircase, and at its other extremity there was a similar door opening into some other apartments of the house. Sir Francis Varney sat with his back towards this second door, and a table, with some chairs and some other articles of furniture, were so arranged before him that while they seemed but to be carelessly placed in the position they occupied, they really formed a pretty good barrier between him and his visitors. The admiral, however, was too intent upon getting a sight of Varney to notice any preparation of this sort, and he advanced quickly into the room. And there, indeed, was the much-dreaded, troublesome, persevering, and singular-looking being who had caused such a world of annoyance to the family of the Bannerworths, as well as disturbing the peace of the whole district, which had the misfortune to have him as an inhabitant. If anything, he looked thinner, taller, and paler than usual, and there seemed to be a slight nervousness of manner about him as he slowly inclined his head towards the admiral, which was not quite intelligible. Well, said Admiral Bell, you invited me to breakfast, and my learned friend, here we are. No two human beings, said Varney, could be more welcome to my hospitality than yourself and Dr. Chillingworth. I pray you to be seated. What a pleasant thing it is, after the toils and struggles of this life, occasionally to sit down in the sweet companionship of such dear friends. He made a hideous face, as he spoke, and the admiral looked as if he were half inclined to quarrel at that early stage of the proceedings. Dear friends, he said, well, well, it's no use squabbling about a word or two, but I tell you what it is, Mr. Varney, or Sir Francis Varney, or whatever your damned name is. Hold my dear sir, said Varney, after breakfast, if you please, after breakfast. He rang a handbell, as he spoke, and the woman who had charge of the house brought in a tray tolerably covered with the materials for a substantial morning's meal. She placed it upon the table, and certainly the various articles that smoked upon it did great credit to her culinary powers.  The admiral opened his eyes in enormous wit, and, looking at Sir Francis Varney, he placed his two fists upon the table and drew a long breath. Did you address those observations to me? He said at length. You blood-sucking vagabond. A. said Sir Francis Varney, looking over the admiral's head, as if he saw something interesting on the wall beyond. My dear admiral, said Dr. Chillingworth, come away. I'll see you damned first, said the admiral. Now, Mr. Vampire, no shuffling. Did you address those observations to me? Deborah, said Sir Francis Varney, in the silvery tones. You can remove this tray and bring on the next. Not if I know it, said the admiral. I came to breakfast, and I'll have it. After breakfast I'll pull your nose. I, if you were fifty vampires, I'd do it. Dr. Chillingworth, said Varney, without paying the least attention to what the admiral said, you don't eat, my dear sir. You must be fatigued with your knight's exertions. A man of your age, you know, cannot be supposed to roll and tumble about like a fool in a pantomime with impunity. 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, were your guests. We come here at your invitation to partake of a meal. You have wantonly attacked both of us. I need not say that by so doing you cast a far greater slur upon your own taste and judgment than you can upon us. Admiral Blee spoken, said Sir Francis Varney, giving his hands a clap together that made the admiral jump again. Now, old Belle, I'll fight you if you think yourself aggrieved while the doctor sees fair play. Old Who? shouted the admiral. Belle! Belle! Is not your name Belle? A family cognomen, I presume, on account of the infernal clack-clack without any sense in it that is 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 to know, can make his own terms in the encounter. Make what terms you please. I care not what they are. They say you will fight, 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 to say. In this mansion, said Sir Francis Varney, for a mansion it is, although under the unpretending name of a lodge. In this mansion there is a large apartment which was originally fitted up by a scientific proprietor of the place for the purpose of microscopic and other experiments which required a darkness total and complete, such a darkness as seems as if it could be felt, palpable, thick, and obscure as the darkness of the tomb. And I know what that is. The devil you do, said the admiral. It's damp, too, ain't it? The room? No, the grave. Oh, uncommonly, after autumnal rains. But to resume, this room is large, lofty, and perfectly empty. Well, I propose that we procure two sides. Two what? Two sides, 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 sides we be both of us placed in the darkened room and the door closed, and doubly locked upon us for one hour, and that then and there we do our best each to cut the other in two. If you succeed in dismembering me, you will have won the day. But I hope, from my superior agility, here Sir Francis jumped upon his chair and sat upon the back of it, to get the better of 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 the table and resting his chin in astonishment upon his two hands. Nay, interrupted Sir Francis, you challenged me, and besides, you'll have an equal chance. You know that. If you succeed in striking me first, down I go, whereas if I succeed in striking you first, down you go. As he spoke, Sir Francis Varney stretched out his foot and closed a small bracket which held out the flap of the table on which the admiral was leaning, and accordingly, down the admiral went, tea-tray and all. Mr. Chillingworth ran to help him up, and when they both recovered their feet, they found they were alone. CHAPTER VIII. THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER. THE PARTICULARES OF THE SUICIDE AT BANNERWARTH HALL. Hello, where the deuce is he, said the admiral, was there ever such a confounded take-in? Well, I really don't know, said Mr. Chillingworth, but it seems to me that he must have gone out of the door that was behind him. I begin, do you know, admiral, to wish—what?—that we had never come here at all, and I think that the sooner we get out of it the better. Yes, but I am not going to be hoaxed and humbugged in this way. I will have satisfaction, but not with those confounded sighs and things he talks about in the dark room. Give me broad daylight and no favour. Yard arm and yard arm, broad side and broad side, hand grenades and marling 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 you think this is a large, scientific-looking room? What of that? Why, what if suppose it was to become as dark as the grave, and Varney was to enter with his scythe that he talks of, and begin mowing about our legs? The devil, come along! The door at which they entered was at this moment opened, and the old woman 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 obliquity of vision, which prevented the possibility of knowing which way he was looking. I must see him, he said. I must see him. Mr. Chillingworth started back as if an amazement. Good God! he cried. You, here? Confusion! said Mortimer. Are you Dr. Dr. Chillingworth? The same. There is no occasion to betray, that is, to state my secret. And mine, too, said Chillingworth, but what brings you here?  He turned abruptly, and was leaving the room, but he ran against someone at the entrance. And in another moment, Henry Bannerworth, heated and almost breathless by evident haste, made his appearance. Hello! Bravo! cried the admiral. The more the merrier. Here's a combined squadron. Why, how came you here, Mr. Henry Banner? Bannerworth? said Mortimer. Is this young man's name Bannerworth? Yes, said Henry. Do you know me, sir? No, no, only I, I must be off. Does anyone know anything of Sir Francis 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 got anything 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 whole world heard it, is the persecutor of my family. How? In what way? He has the reputation of a vampire. He has hunted me in mind from house and home. Indeed. Yes, cried Dr. Chillingworth, and by some means or other he seems determined to get possession of Bannerworth Hall. Well, gentlemen, said Mortimer, I promise you that I will inquire into this. Mr. Chillingworth, I did not expect to meet you. Perhaps the least 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 am making my exit, let me do so with a sentiment. My idea at large is divided 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 is uncommonly true, and I've found out an acquaintance among the former.  You all seem mad! said the admiral. I can't make out what you are about. How came you here, Mr. Henry Bannerworth? By mere accident I heard, said Henry, that you were keeping watch and ward in the hall. Admiral, it was cruel and not well done of you to attempt such an enterprise without acquainting me with it. Did you suppose, for a moment, that I, who had the greatest interest in this affair, would have shrunk from danger if danger there be, or lacked perseverance if that quality were necessary in carrying out any plan by which the safety and honour of my family might be preserved? Now, now, my young friend, said Mr. Chillingworth. May, sir, but I take it ill that I should have been kept out of this affair, and it should have been sedulously, as it were, kept a secret from me.  Boys will be boys. After all, you know, doctor, it's my affair, and not yours. Let him say what he likes. Where's the odds? It's of no consequence. I do not expect, Admiral Bell, said Henry, that it is to you, but it is to me. Respecting you, sir, as I do. Gammon! I must confess that I did expect what you didn't get. Therefore, that's an end of that.  At least I have reason to suppose so. Then, exclaimed Henry impetuously, I will ring from him answers to various questions which concern my peace and happiness. Please, gentlemen, said the woman Deborah, making her appearance. Sir Francis 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 useless search now to attempt to find Sir Francis Varney here. Let me beg of you all to come away, and believe me that I do not speak lightly, or with a view to get you from here, when I say that after I have heard something from you, Henry, which I shall ask you to relate to me, painful though it may be, I shall be able to suggest some explanation of many things which appear at present obscure, and to put you in a course of freeing you from difficulties which surround you, which, heaven knows, I little 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 have always found that it has been dictated by good feeling as well as correct judgment. Admiral Bell, you will oblige me by coming away with me now and at once. Well, remarked the Admiral, if the Doctor has really something to say, it alters the appearance of things, and of course I have no objection. Upon this the whole three of them immediately left the place, and it was evident that Mr. Chillingworth had something of an uncomfortable character upon his mind. He was unusually silent and reserved, and when he did speak he seemed rather inclined to turn the conversation upon in different topics than to add anything more to what he had said upon the deeply interesting one, which held so foremost a place in all their minds. 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 walking towards Bannerworth Hall, and perhaps it is as well on that spot I should ask of you, Henry, to indulge me with a confidence, such as under ordinary circumstances I should not at all feel myself justified in 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, whom I have so much reason to respect as an attached friend of myself and my family. You will not object likewise, I hope, added Mr. Chillingworth, to extend that confidence to Admiral Bell, for as you will know, a truer and 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 I should shrink from relating to Admiral Bell. Well, my boy, said the Admiral, all I can reply to you is, you are quite right, for there can be nothing that you need shrink from telling 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 breaking it. 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 to you consists of much of secrets as of matters which would be painful to my feelings to talk of more than may absolutely be required. I understand you. Let me for a moment, said Mr. Chillingworth, put myself right. I do not suspect, Mr. Henry Bannerworth, that you fancy I ask you to make a recital of circumstances which must be painful to you, from any idle motive, but let me declare that I have now a stronger impulse which induces me to wish to hear from your own lips those matters which popular rumour may have greatly exaggerated or vitiated. It is scarcely possible, remarked Henry sadly, that popular rumour should exaggerate the facts. Indeed. No, they are unhappily of themselves in their bare truthfulness so full of all that can be grievous to those who are in any way connected with them that there needs no exaggeration to invest them with more terror or with more of that sadness which must ever belong to a recollection of them in my mind. In such like discourses this the time was passed until Henry Bannerworth and friends once more reached the hall from which he with his family had so recently removed in consequence of the fearful persecution to which they had been subjected. They passed again into the garden which they all knew so well, and then Henry 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 a space 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 measured by the number of events which are crowded into a given space of it and not by his actual duration. Come into the house. You will find all just 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 sit down in the summer house yonder and there I will tell you all. It has a local interest too connected with this tale. This was agreed to, and in a few moments the admiral, Mr. Chillingworth, and Henry were seated in the same summer house which had witnessed the strange interview between Sir Francis Barney and Flora Bannerworth who had induced her to believe that he felt for the distress he had occasioned her and was strongly impressed with the injustice of her sufferings. Henry was silent for some few moments and then he said with a deep sigh as he looked mournfully around him. It was on this spot that my father breathed his last and hence have I said that it has a local interest in the tale I have to tell which makes it the most fitting place in which to tell it. You have 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 to see a few more. Although I grant you, the death and the heat of conflict and fighting for our country is a vastly different thing to some sure going mode of leaving the world. Yes, said Henry as if pursuing his own meditation rather than listening to the admiral. Yes, it was from this precise spot that my father took his last look at the distant house of his race. What we can now see of it he saw of it with his dying eyes and many a time I have sat here and fancied the world of terrible thoughts that must at such a moment 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 any of the windows of the house is of that of Flora's room as we have always called it because for years she had had it as her chamber and all the vegetation of summer is in its prime and the vine which you perceive crawls over the summer house is full of leaf and fruit, the view is so much hindered that it is difficult without making an artificial gap in the clustering foliage to see anything but the window. So I should imagine, replied Mr. Trillingworth. You, doctor, added Henry who know much of my family need not be told what sort of man my father was. No, indeed. But you, Admiral Bell, who do not know must be told. And, however grievous it may be to have to say so, I must inform you that he was not a man who had merited your esteem. Well, said the Admiral, you know, my boy, that can make no difference as regards you and anyone's mind who has got the brains of an owl. Every man's credit, character, and honour to my thinking is in his own most special keeping. And let your father be what he might or who he might. And let your father raise upon your cheek the flush of shame or cost you more uneasiness than ordinary good-feeling dictates to the errors and feelings of a fellow creature. If all the world, said Henry, would take such liberal and comprehensive views as you do, Admiral, it would be much happier than it is. But such is not the case, and people are but too apt to blame one person for the evil that another has done. Ah, but, said Mr. Trillingworth, all whose opinions are of the very least consequence. There is some truth in that, said Henry sadly, but, however, let me proceed, 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 of congeniality and sentiment that sprang up between him and my mother, plunged into all the excesses of his age. These excesses were all of the character which the most readily hold strongly of an unreflecting mind, because they all presented themselves in the garb of sociality. The wine-cup is drained in the name of good fellowship, money which is wanted for legitimate purposes is squandered under the mask of a noble and free generosity, and all that the small imagination of a number of persons of perverted intellects could enable them to do has been done, from time to time, to impart a kind of luster to intemperance and all its dreadful and criminal consequences. My father, having once got into the company of what he considered wits and men of spirit, soon became thoroughly vitiated. He was almost the only one of the set among whom he passed what he considered his highly convivial existence, who was really worth anything, pecuniarily speaking. There were some among them who might have been respectable men, and perchance carved their way to fortune, as well as some others who had started in life with good patrimonies, and my father, at the time he became associated with them, was the only one, as I say, who, to use a phrase I have heard myself from his lips concerning them, had got a feather to fly with. The consequence of this was that his society, merely for the sake of the animal gratification of drinking at his expense, was courted, and he was 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 friends proceeded from nothing in the world but downright envy and malice. Such a state of things as this could not last very long. The associates of my father wanted money as well as wine, so they introduced him to the gaming table, and he became fascinated with the fearful vice to an extent which predicted his own destruction and the ruin of everyone who was in any way dependent upon him. He could not absolutely sell banner with haul unless I had given my consent and refused, but he accumulated debt upon debt and from time to time stripped the mansion of all its most costly contents. With various mutations of fortune he continued this horrible and baneful career for a long time until at last he found himself utterly and irretrievably ruined and he came home in an agony of despair being so weak and utterly ruined a constitution that he kept his bed for many days. It appeared, however, that something occurred at this juncture which gave him actually, or all events awakened, a hope that he should possess some money and be again in a position to try his fortune at the gaming table. He rose, and fortifying himself once more with the strong stimulant of wine 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 one late night he came home evidently much flurry in manner and seeming as if something had happened to drive him half mad. He would not speak to any one, but he shut himself up the whole of the night in the chamber where hangs the portrait that bears so strong resemblance to Sir Francis Barney, and there he remained till the morning when he emerged and said briefly that he intended to leave the country. He was in a most fearful state of nervousness and my mother tells me that he shook like one in an ague and started at every little sound that occurred in the house and glared about him so wildly that it was horrible 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 letter came to him the contents of which appeared to throw him into a perfect convulsion of terror and he retired again to the room with the portrait where he remained some hours and then he emerged looking like a ghost so dreadfully pale and haggard was he. He walked into the garden here and was seen to sit down in the summer house and fix his eyes upon the window of the apartment. Henry paused for a few moments and then he added, you will excuse me from entering upon any details of what next ensued in this melancholy history. My father here committed suicide. He was found dying and all the words he spoke were the money is hidden. Death claimed his victim and with a convulsive spasm he resigned his spirit leaving what he had intended to say hidden 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 he so uttered were but the result of the mental disturbance that at such a moment might well be supposed to be ensuing in the mind and that they really related to no foregone fact any more than some incoherent words uttered by a man in a dream might be supposed to do so. It may be so. I do not mean remarked Mr. Chillingworth for one moment to attempt to dispute Henry the rationality of such an opinion as you have just given utterance to. But you forget that another circumstance occurred which gave a color to the words used by your father. Yes, I know to which you elude. 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 in seeming ignorance of what had occurred although by that time it was well known to all the neighborhood asked to see my father. Upon being told that he was dead he started back either with well acted or with real surprise and seemed to be immensely chagrined. He then demanded to know if he had left any disposition of his property but he got no information and departed muttering the most diabolical oaths and curses that can be imagined. He mounted his horse for he had ridden 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 the money 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 mind was much taken up at the time with some other matters or it would have made the death of Mr. Bannerworth a subject of more prolific comment than it did. As it was however a great deal was said upon the subject and the whole county in motion for weeks afterwards. Yes, said Henry, it so happened that about that very time a murder was committed in the neighborhood of London which baffled all the exertions of the authorities to discover the perpetrators of. It was the murder of Lord Lorne. Oh, I remember, said the admiral, the newspapers were full of it for a long time. They were and more so as Mr. Chillingworth says the more exciting interest which that affair created drew off public attention in a great measure from my father's suicide and we did not suffer so much from public remark and from impertinent curiosity as might have been expected. And in addition said Mr. Chillingworth and he changed color a little as he spoke. There was an execution shortly afterwards. Yes, said Henry, there was. The execution of a man named Angerstein added Mr. Chillingworth for a highway robbery attended with the most brutal violence. True, all the affairs of that period of time are strongly impressed upon 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 who certainly appeared to them to be laboring under some great mental excitement which he found almost beyond his power to repress. I tell you what it is, doctor, said the admiral. I don't pretend and never did to see further through a tar barrel than my neighbors, but I can see far enough to feel convinced that you have got something on your mind and that it somehow concerns this affair. Is it so, said Henry? I cannot, if I would, said Mr. Chillingworth, and I may with truth add that I would not, if I could, hide from you that I have something on my mind connected with this affair. But let me assure you it would be premature of me to tell you of it. Premature be damned, said the admiral, out with it. Nay, dear sir, I am not now in a position to say what is passing through my mind. Alter your position, then, and be blowed, cried Jack Pringle, suddenly stepping forward and giving the doctor such a push that he nearly went through 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 but yourself? I'm as fond of a yarn as anybody. But if you are, said Mr. Chillingworth, you had no occasion to come against me as if you wanted to move a house. You said as you wasn't in a position to say something as I wanted to hear, so I thought I'd alter it for you.      Away strolled Jack with his hands in his pockets toward the house, while the admiral was half choked with rage and could only glare after him without the ability to say a word. Under any other circumstances than the present one of trouble and difficulty and deep anxiety, Henry Bannerworth must have laughed at these singular little episodes between Jack and the admiral, but his mind 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 the admiral, who showed some signs of an intention to pursue Jack. He no doubt has been drinking again. I'll turn him off the first moment I catch him sober enough to understand me, said the admiral. Well, well, do as you please, but now let me ask a favor of both of you. 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 well reward you for the trouble. It's no trouble, said Henry, and for myself I have amply sufficient faith both in your judgment and in your friendship, doctor, to exceed to 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 achieved something worth the telling of, and I promise you, that if I am at all disappointed in my expecting, that I will frankly and freely communicate 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 Bannerworth Hall is not left another hour without someone in it, and in order that such should be the case, I have to request that you two will remain here until I go to the town, and make preparations for taking quiet possession of myself, which I will do in the course of two hours at most. 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 you come back. The doctor, at once, hurried from the garden, leaving Henry and the admiral to amuse themselves as best they might, with conjectures as to what he was really about until his return. End of Chapter 61 Recording by Lorelle Anderson, Sanford, Florida Chapter 59 of Varney the Vampire This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Scott Jones Varney the Vampire, Volume 1 by Thomas Prescott Press The mysterious meeting in the ruin again. The vampires attack upon the constable. It is now necessary that we return, once more, to that mysterious ruin in the intricacies of which Varney, when pursued by the mob, had succeeded in finding a refuge which defied all the exertions which were made for his discovery. Our readers must be well aware that connected with that ruin are some secrets of great importance to our story, and we will now, at the solemn hour of midnight, take another glance at what is doing within its recesses. At that solemn hour it is not probable that anyone would seek that gloomy place from choice. Some lover of the picturesque might certainly visit it, but such was not the inciting cause of the pilgrimage with those who were soon to stand within the ruins. Other motives dictated their presence in that spot. Motives of repine, para-adventure, of murder itself. As the neighboring clocks sounded the hour of twelve and the faint strokes were borne gently on the wind to that isolated ruin, there might have been seen a tall man standing by the porch of what had once been a large doorway to some portion of the ruin. There was a cloak, which was of such ample material that he seemed well able to wrap it several times around him and then leave a considerable portion of it floating idly in the gentle wind. He stood as still, as calm, and as motionless as a statue for a considerable time, before any degree of impatience began to show itself. Then he took from his pocket a large antique watch, the white face of which just enabled him to see what the time was, and in a voice which had in it some amount of petulance and anger, he said. Not come yet? And nearly half an hour beyond the time? What can have detained him? This is indeed trifling with the most important moments of a man's existence. Even as he spoke he heard from some distance off the sound of a short quick footstep. He bent forwards to listen and then in a tone of satisfaction he said. He comes! He comes! But he who thus waited for some confederate among these dim and old gray ruins advanced not a step to meet him. On the contrary, such seemed the amount of cold-blooded caution which he possessed, that the nearer the man who was evidently advancing got to the place. The further back did he who had preceded him shrink into the shadow of the dim and rumbling walls, which had for some years now passed, to bend the passing blast and to be on the point of yielding to the destroying hand of time. And yet surely he needed not have been so cautious, who was likely at such an hour as that to come to the ruins, but one who sought it by appointment. And moreover the manner of the advancing man should have been quite sufficient to convince him who waited, that so much caution was unnecessary but it was a part and parcel of his nature. About three minutes more suffice 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, and they stood together in the nearly total darkness with which the place was enshrouded for the night was a cloudy one, and there appeared not a star 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 had evidently made great exertions to reach the spot, and was breathing laboriously, while he who was there first appeared from some natural tass eternity 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 beyond it, as you are no doubt aware. Yes, yes. Well, such would not have been the case, but yet I stayed to bring you some news of importance. Indeed. It is so, this place which we have now for some time had as a quiet and perfectly eligible one of meeting, is about to be invaded by one of those troublesome spirits who are never happy but when they are contriving something to the annoyance of others who do not interfere with them. Explain yourself more fully. I will. At the tavern in the town there has happened some strange scenes of violence, in consequence of the general excitement into which the common people have been thrown upon the dreadful subject of vampires. Wow. The consequence is that numerous arrests have taken place and the places of confinement for offenders against the laws are now full of those whose heated and angry imaginations have induced them to take violent steps to discover the reality or the falsehood of rumors which so much affected them, their wives, and their families, that they feared to lie down to their knights' repose. The other laughed a short of laugh which had not one particle of mirth in it.  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 intentions this night from twelve till the morning and for some knights to come to hold watch and ward for the vampire. Indeed. Yes. He did but stay at the earnest solicitation of his comrades to take yet another glass, ere he came upon his expedition.  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 and there consider as well what is to be done regarding more important affairs as with this rash intruder here. They both walked for some twenty paces or so right into the ruin and then 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 has spread so widely and made so much noise. Your reputation as a vampire, Sir Francis Varney, you mean? Yes. But there is no occasion for you to utter my name aloud even here where we are alone together. It came out unawares. Unawares? Can it be possible you have so little command over yourself 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? You are my private counselor. Have you known deep laid artful project in hand? Can you not plan and arrange something which may yet have the effect of accomplishing what at first seems so very simple but which has from one unfortunate circumstance and another become full of difficulty and pregnant with all sorts of dangers? I must confess I have no plan. I listen with astonishment. Nay now you are adjusting. When did you ever hear of me adjusting? 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 elaborate course of action for others. Then you throw it all on me? I throw a weight, naturally enough, upon the shoulders which I think the 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 action which shall present better hopes of success at less risk I hope. Look what 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 being attained. And not only so but as is invariably the case under such circumstances we have made it more difficult of execution because we have put those upon their guard thoroughly who are most likely to oppose us. We have, we have. And place the probability of success a far off indeed. And yet I have set my life upon the case. And I will stand the hazard. I tell you I will accomplish this object and I will perish in the attempt.  Not at all. Nothing has ever been done the execution of which was difficult without enthusiasm. I will do what I intend or Bannerworth Hall shall become a heap of ruins where fire shall do its worst work of devastation and I will myself find a grave in the midst. Well, I quarrel with no man for chalking out the course he intends to pursue 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 is secured and when the whole of that which I so much court and which I will have is in my possession I will take his life or you shall.  I know not why said the other.  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 Pshaw, hark you that admiral is the great stumbling block in my way. I should air this have had undisturbed possession of Bannerworth Hall but for him he must be got out of the way somehow. A short time will tire him out of watching. He is one of these men of impulse who soon become worried of inaction. You may and then the Bannerworths return to the Hall. It may be so. I am certain of it. We have been out-generaled 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.  He has offended me more than once most grievously. I know it. He saw through you. I do not give him so much credit. He is a suspicious man and a vain and a jealous one. And yet he saw through you. Now listen to me.  What I want you to do is to disappear from the neighborhood for our prisoner will hear below. I cannot see what else can be done with him then, then, then what? You hesitate. I do. Then what is it you are about to say? I cannot but feel that all we have done hitherto as regards as young prisoner of ours has failed. He has, with a determined obstinacy, said it not as well you know, all threats. He has. He has refused to do one act which could in any way aid me in my object. In fact, from the first to the last he has been nothing but an expense and an encumbrance to us both. And yet, although you as well as I know of a marvelously ready way of getting rid of such encumbrances, I must own that I shrink with more than a feeling of reluctance from the murder of the youth. You contemplated it then? Ask the other. No, I cannot be said to have contemplated it. That is not the proper sort of expression to use. What is it then? To contemplate a deed seems to me to have some close connection to the will 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 to consider is what you will do. It is far easier in all enterprises to decide upon what we will not do than upon what we will. For my own part I must say that I can perceive no mode of extricating ourselves from this involvement with anything like safety. Then it must be done with something like danger. As you please. You say so and your words bear clear enough significance, but from your tone I can guess how much you are dissatisfied with that aspect of affairs. Yes, I say, dissatisfied. Be frank and own that which is in vain to conceal from me. I know you too well. Arch-Hippecrit as you are and fully 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 wronged me. Unless you yourself thought that such an act was imperatively called for by the state of affairs, do you think that I would needlessly bring down upon my head the odium as well as the danger of such a deed? No, no, let him live if you are willing. He may live a thousand years for all I care. As well I am, mark me, not only willing, but I am determined to 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 say no to a proposal which was cowardly and dishonorable. Although it went far 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.  Truly, I had for a moment. Do you think that the footstep which now meets our ears is that of the adventurer who boasted that he could keep watch for the vampire? In faith I do. What is to be done with such a meddling fool? He ought certainly to be taught not to be so fond of interfering with other people's affairs. Certainly. Perchance the lesson will not be wholly thrown away upon others. It may be worthwhile to take some trouble with the pot-valiant fellow and let him spread his news as to stop anyone else from being equally venturous 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. It does. Ah, already I fancy I see a brightening of the air as if the mellow radiance of the Queen of Night were already quietly diffusing itself throughout the realms of space. Come further within the ruins. They both walked further among the crumbling walls and fragments of columns with which the place abounded. As they did so they paused then to listen, and more than once they both heard plainly the sound of certain footsteps outside the once-handsome and spacious building. Varney the Vampire, who had been holding this conversation with no other than Marchdale, smiled as he, in a whispered voice, told the latter what to do in order to frighten away from the place the foolhardy man who thought that by himself he should be able to accomplish anything against the vampire. It was indeed a harebrained expedition, for whether Sir Francis Varney was really so awful and preternatural a being as so many concurrent circumstances would seem to proclaim, or not, he was not a likely being to allow himself to be conquered by any one individual, let his powers or his courage be what they might. What induced this man to become so venturesome we shall now proceed to relate, as well as the kind of reception he got in the old ruins, which, since the mysterious disappearance of Sir Francis Varney within their recesses, had possessed so increased a share of interest and attracted so much popular attention and speculation. End of Chapter 59 Recorded by Scott Jones San Clemente, California Chapter 60 of Varney the Vampire This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Roger Maline Varney the Vampire Volume 1 by Thomas Prescott-Prest Chapter 60 The Guests at the Inn and the Story of the Dead Uncle As had been truly stated by Mr. Marchdale, who now stands out in his true colors to the reader as the confident and a better of Sir Francis Varney, there had assembled on that evening a curious and gossiping party at the inn where such dreadful proceedings had taken place. We have already duly end at length recorded. It was not very likely that on the evening, or for many an evening to come, the conversation and the parlor of the inn would be upon any other subject than that of the vampire. Indeed, the strange, mysterious, and horrible circumstances which had occurred bade fair to be gossiping 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 was supposed to know everything had there occurred any circumstances in the county, or set of circumstances which afforded such abundant scope for conjecture and speculation. Everybody might have his individual opinion and be just as likely to be right as his neighbors. And the beauty of the affair was that such was the interest of the subject itself, that there was sure to be a kind of reflected interest with eerie surmise that it all bore upon it. On this particular night, when Marchdale was prowling about, gathering what news he could in order that he might carry it to the vampire, a more than usually strong muster of the gossips of the town took place. Indeed, all of any note in the talking way were there, with the exception of one, and he was in the county jail, being one of the prisoners apprehended by the military when they made the successful attack upon the lumber room of the inn, after the dreadful desecration of the dead which had taken place. The landlord of the inn was likely to make a good thing of it. For talking makes people thirsty, and he began to consider that a vampire about once a year would be a good 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 at least 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 vampire? Everything. Oh, do tell us, do tell us all about it. How was it? Did he come to you? Go on. Well, well, the first speaker became immediately a very important personage in the room, and when he was that, he became at once a very important personage in his own eyes likewise. And before he would speak another word, 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 dreadful circumstance has made me sixty-three today when I was only fifty-three yesterday. Was it very dreadful? Rather, you wouldn't have survived at all. Indeed. No. Now listen, I went to bed at a quarter after eleven, as usual. I didn'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't fasten the door, because being a very sound sleeper, in case there was a fire, I shouldn't hear a word of it if I did. No, said another. I re-elected once. Be so good as to allow me to finish what I know before you begin to re-elect anything, if you please. As I was saying, I didn't lock the door, but I went to bed. Somehow or another I did not feel at all comfortable, and I tossed about, first on one side and then on the other, but it was all in vain. I only got every moment more and more fidgety. And did you think of the vampire? Said one of the listeners. I thought of nothing else till I heard my clock, which is on the landing in the stairs above my bedroom, begin to strike twelve. Ah, I like to hear a clock sound in the night, said one. It puts one in mind of the rest of the world, and lets one know one isn't all alone. Very good. The striking of the clock I should not at all have objected to, but it was what followed that did the business. What? What? Fair and softly, fair and softly, just hand me a light, Mr. Spriggs, if you please. I'll tell you all, gentlemen, in a moment or two. With the most provoking deliberation, the speaker re-lit his pipe which had gone out while he was talking, and then, after a few whiffs to assure himself that its contents had thoroughly ignited, he resumed. No sooner had the last sound of it died away than I heard something in the stairs. Yes, yes, it was as if some man had given his foot a hard blow against one of the stairs, and he would have needed to have had a heavy boot on to do it. I started up in bed, and listened, as you well may suppose, not in the most tranquil 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 the vampire had, by some means, gotten at the attic window and was coming downstairs to my room. That seemed the most likely. Then there was another groan and then another heavy step, and as they were evidently coming towards my door, I felt accordingly and got out of bed, not knowing hardly whether I was on my head or my heels to try and lock my door. Ah, to be sure! Yes, that was all very well if I could have done it, but a man in such a state of mind as I was 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 a moment or two collect my senses sufficient really to know which way the door lay. What a situation! It was. Dab, dab, dab, Dab came these hard footsteps and there was I groping about the room in an agony. I heard them coming nearer and nearer to my door. Another moment, and they must have reached it when my 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 was not 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 the very devil himself was coming downstairs hopping all the way upon one leg. How terrific! I felt my senses almost leaving me, but I did what I could to hold the door shut just as I heard the strange step come from the last stair onto the landing. There was a horrid sound and someone began trying to lock on my door. What a moment! Yes, I can tell you it was a moment, such a moment as I don't wish to go through again. I held the door as close as I could and did not speak. I tried to cry out help and murder, but I could not. My tongue stuck 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 someone tried, might and main, to push open the door. My strength left me all at once. I had only time to stagger back a step or 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 tell you. No. But what became of you? What happened next? How did it end? What was it? Why, what exactly happened next after I fainted, I cannot tell you. But the first thing I saw when I recovered was a candle. Yes, yes. And then a crowd of people. Ah! Ah! And then Dr. Webb. Gracious! And Mrs. Bulk, my housekeeper. I was in my own bed and when I opened my eyes, I heard Dr. Webb say, he will be better soon. Can no one form any idea of what it is all about? Some sudden fright surely alone could have produced such an effect. The Lord have mercy upon me, said I. Upon this, everybody who had been called in got round the bed and wanted to know what had happened. But I said not a word of it. But turning to Mrs. Bulk, I asked her how it was she found out I had fainted. 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 was striking 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 it rolled, going with such a lump from one to the other, and I couldn't catch it because it rolled so fast that I made sure you would be awakened. So I came down to tell you what it was and it was some time before I could get your room door open and when I did, I found you out of bed and insensible. There was a general look of disappointment when this explanation was given and one said, then it was not the vampire? Certainly not. And, after all, only a clockweight. That's about it. Why didn't you tell us about that at first? Because that would have spoiled the story.  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 it. 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 it was, you would have spared yourself such 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. But there 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 at night 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 where Sir Francis Varney so unaccountably disappeared in broad daylight. But is there nay one here who would go to it alone and at midnight? Yes. Who? I would. What? And after what has happened as regards the vampire in connection with it? Yes, I would.  Well, gentlemen, said the man who certainly showed no signs of fear, I will go and not only will I go and take all your bets, but if I do meet the vampire, then I'll do my best to take him prisoner. And when will you go? Tonight, he cried and he sprang to his feet. Hark ye all, I don't believe one word about vampire. I'll go at once. It's getting late and let any one of you in order that you may be convinced that I have been to the place, give me any article which I will hide among the ruins and tell you where to find it tomorrow in broad daylight. Well, said one, that's fair, Tom Eccles. Here's a handkerchief of mine. 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 to Tom Eccles. And at eleven o'clock he fairly started through the murky darkness of the night to the old ruin where Sir Francis Varney and Marchdale were holding their most unholy conference. It is one thing to talk and to accept wagers in the snug parlor of an inn and another to go alone across a tract of country wrapped in the profound stillness of night and ruin, which in addition to the natural gloom which might well be supposed to surround it has super-added associations which are anything but of a pleasant character. Tom Eccles, as he was named, was one of those individuals who act greatly from impulse. He was certainly not a coward and perhaps really as free from superstition as most persons. But he was human and consequently he had nerves and he had likewise 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 and placed in his pocket. Then he wrapped himself up in a great coat and with the air of a man quite determined upon something desperate he left the town. The guests at the inn looked after him as he walked from the door of that friendly establishment and some of them, as they saw his resolved aspect, began to quake for the moment the wagers they had laid upon his non-success. However it was resolved among them that they would stay until half past twelve in the expectation of his return before they separated. Two while away the time he who had been so facetious about his story of the clock-weight volunteered to tell what happened to a friend of his who went to take possession of some family property which he became possessed of as heir-in-law to an uncle who had died without a will and had a permanent family unprovided for in every shape. Ah, nobody cares for other people's illegitimate children and if their parents don't provide for them why the work-house is open for them just as if they were something different from other people. So they are. If their parents don't take care of them and provide for them nobody else will, as you say neighbor except when they have a because you they are royal bastards and of course unlike anybody else's. But go on let's know all about it we shan't hear what he has got to say at all at this rate. Well, as I was saying or about to say the nephew as soon as he heard his uncle was dead comes and claps his seal upon everything in the house. But could he do so? inquired one of the guests. I don't see what was to hinder him at a third. He could do so certainly. But there was a son and as I take it a son is nearer than a nephew any day. But the son is illegitimate. Legitimate or illegitimate a son is a son.  Why now there was old weather order order let's hear the tale. Very good gentlemen I'll go on if I need to be interrupted but I'll say this that an illegitimate son is no son in the eyes of the law or at most he's an accident quite and ain't what he is and so can't inherit.  Now that is what I likes. Well as I have proved then resumed the speaker the nephew was the heir as he would come a fine affair it was too the illegitimates licking the color of slows but he knew the law and would have it put in force.  It was trying to them mind you to leave the house they had been born in with very different expectations to those which now appeared to be their fate. Poor things they looked ruefully enough and well they might for there was a wide world for them and no prospect of a warm corner. Well as I was saying he had them all out and the house clear to himself. Now said he I have an open field and no favor I don't care for no hey what there was a sudden knocking he thought at the door and went and opened it 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 the house that is what I call very good company I wouldn't wish for better he turned about looked over room after room and satisfied himself that he was alone that the house was empty at every room he entered he paused to think over the value what it was worth and that he was a very fortunate man and having dropped into such a good thing ah there's the old boy secretary too his bureau there'll be something in that that will amuse me mightily but I don't think I shall sit up late he was a rum old man to say the least of it a very odd sort of man with that he gave himself a shrug as if some very uncomfortable feeling had come over him I'll go to bed early and get some sleep and then in daylight I can look after these papers they won't be less interesting in the morning than they are now there had been some rum stories about the old man and now the nephew seemed to think that he might have let the family sleep on the premises for that night yes at that moment he could have found it paid for all the expense of their keep had it been possible to have had them back to remain the night but that wasn't possible for they would not have done it but sooner have remained in the streets all night than stay there all night like so many house dogs employed by one who stepped in between them and their father's goods which were their inheritance but for one trifling circumstance a mere ceremony the night came on and he had lights it was that he had not been downstairs only just to have a look he could not tell what sort of place it was there were a good many odd sort of passages that seemed to end nowhere 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 then he went upstairs again and sat down in the room where the bureau was 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 is dangerous or supposed to be dangerous by the bravest man is any way holy without some uncomfortable feelings they may not be strong enough to prevent the thing proposed to be done from being done but they give a disagreeable sensation to the skin you have felt it then ha ha ha why at that time I slept in the church yard for a wager I must say I felt cold all over as if my skin was walking about me in an uncomfortable 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 they were I assure you but I lay there and slept there and won my wager 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 them very badly come order order the tale let's hear the end of that since it's begun with all my heart come neighbor well as I said he was fidgety but yet he was not a man to be very easily frightened or overcome for he was stout and bold when he shut himself up in the room he took out a bottle of some good wine and helped himself to drink it was good old wine and he soon felt himself warmed and comforted he could have faced the enemy if one bottle produces such an effect he muttered what will two do this was a question that could only be solved by trying it and this he proceeded to do but first he drew a brace of long barreled pistols from his coat pocket and taking a powder flask and bullets from his pocket also he loaded them very carefully there said he are my bulldogs and rare watchdogs they are they never bark but they bite now if anybody does come it will be all up with them tricks upon travelers 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 than the first he drank it rather quick to be sure and then he began to feel sleepy and tired I think I shall go to bed he said that is if I can find my way there for it does seem to me as if the door was traveling never mind it will make a call here again presently and I'll get through so saying he arose taking the candle in his hand he walked with a better step than might have been expected under the circumstance true it was the candle wagged to and fro and his shadow danced upon the wall but still when he got to the bed he cured his door put the light in a safe place threw himself down and was fast asleep in a few moments or rather he fell into a doze instantaneously how long he remained in this state he knew not but he was suddenly awakened by a loud bang as though something heavy and flat had fallen upon the floor such for instance as a door or anything of that sort he jumped up rubbed his eyes even then hear the reverberations through the house what is that he muttered what is that he listened and thought he could hear something moving downstairs and for a moment he was seized with an ague fit but recollecting I suppose that there were some valuables downstairs that were worth fighting for he carefully extinguished the light that still burned and softly crept downstairs when he got downstairs he thought he could hear someone scramble up the kitchen stairs and then into the room where the bureau was listening for a moment to ascertain if there were more than one and then feeling convinced there was not he followed into the parlor when he heard the can that opened by a key this was a new miracle and one he could not understand and then he heard the papers begin to rattle and rustle so drying out one of his pistols and walked in the figure instantly began to jump about it was dressed in white in grave clothes he was terribly nervous and shook so he feared to fire the pistol but at length he did and the report was followed by a fall and a loud groan this was very dreadful very dreadful but all was quiet and he lit the candle again and approached the body to examine it and ascertain if he knew who it was a groan came from it the bureau was open and the figure clutched firmly a will in his hand the figure was dressed in grave clothes and he started up when he saw the foreman features of his own uncle the man who was dead who somehow or other had escaped his confinement and found his way up here he held his will firmly and the nephew was so horrified and stunned that he threw down the light and rushed out of the room with a shout 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 why don't, why should I my friend was out of all hand one of the greatest liars I ever came near and why therefore should I believe him I don't any conscience believe one word of it it was now half past twelve and as Tom Eccles came not back and the landlord did not feel disposed to draw any more liquor they left the inn and retired to their separate houses in a great state of anxiety to know the fate of their respective wagers End of Chapter 60