Varney the Vampire by Thomas Preskett Prest

T >> Thomas Preskett Prest >> Varney the Vampire

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | 69 | 70 | 71 | 72 | 73

Thus was it, then, that most cruelly, at the very time that they had
most need of assistance and of sympathy, this unfortunate family almost
became isolated from their kind; and, apart from every other
consideration, it would have been almost impossible for them to continue
inhabitants of the Hall, with anything like comfort, or advantage.

And then, although the disappearance of Charles Holland no longer
awakened those feelings of indignation at his supposed perfidy which
were first produced by that event; still, view it in which way they
might, it was a severe blow of fate, and after it, they one and all
found themselves still less able to contend against the sea of troubles
that surrounded them.

The reader, too, will not have failed to remark that there was about the
whole of the family that pride of independence which induced them to
shrink from living upon extraneous aid; and hence, although they felt
and felt truly, that when Admiral Bell, in his frank manner, offered
them pecuniary assistance, that it was no idle compliment, yet with a
sensitiveness such as they might well be expected to feel, they held
back, and asked each other what prospect there was of emerging from such
a state of things, and if it were justifiable to commence a life of
dependence, the end of which was not evident or tangible.

Notwithstanding, too, the noble confidence of Flora in her lover, and
notwithstanding that confidence had been echoed by her brothers, there
would at times obtrude into the minds of the latter, a feeling of the
possibility, that after all they might be mistaken; and Charles Holland
might, from some sudden impulse, fancying his future happiness was all
at stake, have withdrawn himself from the Hall, and really written the
letters attributed to him.

We say this only obtruded itself occasionally, for all their real
feelings and aspirations were the other way, although Mr. Marchdale,
they could perceive, had his doubts, and they could not but confess that
he was more likely to view the matter calmly and dispassionately than
they.

In fact, the very hesitation with which he spoke upon the subject,
convinced them of his doubt; for they attributed that hesitation to a
fear of giving them pain, or of wounding the prejudices of Admiral Bell,
with whom he had already had words so nearly approaching to a quarrel.

Henry's visit to Mr. Chillingworth was not likely to be productive of
any results beyond those of a conjectural character. All that that
gentleman could do was to express a willingness to be directed by them
in any way, rather than suggest any course of conduct himself upon
circumstances which he could not be expected to judge of as they who
were on the spot, and had witnessed their actual occurrence.

And now we will suppose that the reader is enabled with us to look into
one of the principal rooms of Bannerworth Hall. It is evening, and some
candles are shedding a sickly light on the ample proportions of the once
handsome apartment. At solemn consultation the whole of the family are
assembled. As well as the admiral, Mr. Chillingworth, and Marchdale,
Jack Pringle, too, walked in, by the sufferance of his master, as if he
considered he had a perfect right to do so.

The occasion of the meeting had been a communication which Flora had
made concerning her most singular and deeply interesting interview with
the vampyre. The details of this interview had produced a deep effect
upon the whole of the family. Flora was there, and she looked better,
calmer, and more collected than she had done for some days past.

No doubt the interview she had had with Varney in the summer-house in
the garden had dispelled a host of imaginary terrors with which she had
surrounded him, although it had confirmed her fully that he and he only
was the dreadful being who had caused her so much misery.

That interview had tended to show her that about him there was yet
something human, and that there was not a danger of her being hunted
down from place to place by so horrible an existence.

Such a feeling as this was, of course, a source of deep consolation; and
with a firmer voice, and more of her old spirit of cheerfulness about
her than she had lately exhibited, she again detailed the particulars of
the interview to all who had assembled, concluding by saying,--

"And this has given me hope of happier days. If it be a delusion, it is
a happy one; and now that but a frightful veil of mystery still hangs
over the fate of Charles Holland, I how gladly would I bid adieu to this
place, and all that has made it terrible. I could almost pity Sir
Francis Varney, rather than condemn him."

"That may be true," said Henry, "to a certain extent, sister; but we
never can forget the amount of misery he has brought upon us. It is no
slight thing to be forced from our old and much-loved home, even if such
proceeding does succeed in freeing us from his persecutions."

"But, my young friend," said Marchdale, "you must recollect, that
through life it is continually the lot of humanity to be endeavouring to
fly from great evils to those which do not present themselves to the
mind in so bad an aspect. It is something, surely, to alleviate
affliction, if we cannot entirely remove it."

"That is true," said Mr. Chillingworth, "to a considerable extent, but
then it takes too much for granted to please me."

"How so, sir?"

"Why, certainly, to remove from Bannerworth Hall is a much less evil
than to remain at Bannerworth Hall, and be haunted by a vampyre; but
then that proposition takes for granted that vampyre business, which I
will never grant. I repeat, again and again, it is contrary to all
experience, to philosophy, and to all the laws of ordinary nature."

"Facts are stubborn things," said Marchdale.

"Apparently," remarked Mr. Chillingworth.

"Well, sir; and here we have the fact of a vampyre."

"The presumed fact. One swallow don't make a summer, Mr. Marchdale."

"This is waste of time," said Henry--"of course, the amount of evidence
that will suffice to bring conviction to one man's mind will fail in
doing so to another. The question is, what are we to do?"

All eyes were turned upon Flora, as if this question was more
particularly addressed to her, and it behoved her, above all others, to
answer it. She did so; and in a firm, clear voice, she said,--

"I will discover the fate of Charles Holland, and then leave the Hall."

"The fate of Charles Holland!" said Marchdale. "Why, really, unless that
young gentleman chooses to be communicative himself upon so interesting
a subject, we may be a long while discovering his fate. I know that it
is not a romantic view to take of the question, to suppose simply that
he wrote the three letters found upon his dressing-table, and then
decamped; but to my mind, it savours most wonderfully of matter-of-fact.
I now speak more freely than I have otherwise done, for I am now upon
the eve of my departure. I have no wish to remain here, and breed
dissension in any family, or to run a tilt against anybody's
prejudices." Here he looked at Admiral Bell. "I leave this house
to-night."

"You're a d----d lubberly thief," said the admiral; "the sooner you
leave it the better. Why, you bad-looking son of a gun, what do you
mean? I thought we'd had enough of that."

"I fully expected this abuse," said Marchdale.

"Did you expect that?" said the admiral, as he snatched up an inkstand,
and threw at Marchdale, hitting him a hard knock on the chin, and
bespattering its contents on his breast. "Now I'll give you
satisfaction, you lubber. D--me, if you ain't a second Jones, and enough
to sink the ship. Shiver my timbers if I sha'n't say something strong
presently."

"I really," said Henry, "must protest, Admiral Bell, against this
conduct."

"Protest and be d----d."

"Mr. Marchdale may be right, sir, or he may be wrong, it's a matter of
opinion."

"Oh, never mind," said Marchdale; "I look upon this old nautical ruffian
as something between a fool and a madman. If he were a younger man I
should chastise him upon the spot; but as it is I live in hopes yet of
getting him into some comfortable lunatic asylum."

"Me into an asylum!" shouted the admiral. "Jack, did you hear that?"

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Farewell all of you," said Marchdale; "my best wishes be with this
family. I cannot remain under this roof to be so insulted."

"A good riddance," cried the admiral. "I'd rather sail round the world
with a shipload of vampyres than with such a humbugging son of a gun as
you are. D----e, you're worse than a lawyer."

"Nay, nay," cried they, "Mr. Marchdale, stay."

"Stay, stay," cried George, and Mrs. Bannerworth, likewise, said stay;
but at the moment Flora stepped forward, and in a clear voice she
said,--

"No, let him go, he doubts Charles Holland; let all go who doubt Charles
Holland. Mr. Marchdale, Heaven forgive you this injustice you are doing.
We may never meet again. Farewell, sir!"

These words were spoken in so decided a tone, that no one contradicted
them. Marchdale cast a strange kind of look round upon the family
circle, and in another instant he was gone.

"Huzza!" shouted Jack Pringle; "that's one good job."

Henry looked rather resentful, which the admiral could not but observe,
and so, less with the devil-may-care manner in which he usually spoke,
the old man addressed him.

"Hark ye, Mr. Henry Bannerworth, you ain't best pleased with me, and in
that case I don't know that I shall stay to trouble you any longer, as
for your friend who has left you, sooner or later you'll find him out--I
tell you there's no good in that fellow. Do you think I've been cruizing
about for a matter of sixty years, and don't know an honest man when I
see him. But never mind, I'm going on a voyage of discovery for my
nephew, and you can do as you like."

"Heaven only knows, Admiral Bell," said Henry, "who is right and who is
wrong. I do much regret that you have quarrelled with Mr. Marchdale; but
what is done can't be undone."

"Do not leave us," said Flora; "let me beg of you, Admiral Bell, not to
leave us; for my sake remain here, for to you I can speak freely and
with confidence, of Charles, when probably I can do so to no one else.
You knew him well and have a confidence in him, which no one else can
aspire to. I pray you, therefore, to stay with us."

"Only on one condition," said the admiral.

"Name it--name it!

"You think of letting the Hall?"

"Yes, yes."

"Let me have it, then, and let me pay a few years in advance. If you
don't, I'm d----d if I stay another night in the place. You must give me
immediate possession, too, and stay here as my guests until you suit
yourselves elsewhere. Those are my terms and conditions. Say yes, and
all's right; say no, and I'm off like a round shot from a carronade.
D----me, that's the thing, Jack, isn't it?"

"Ay, ay, sir."

There was a silence of some few moments after this extraordinary offer
had been made, and then they spoke, saying,--

"Admiral Bell, your generous offer, and the feelings which dictated it,
are by far too transparent for us to affect not to understand them. Your
actions, Admiral--"

"Oh, bother my actions! what are they to you? Come, now, I consider
myself master of the house, d--n you! I invite you all to dinner, or
supper, or to whatever meal comes next. Mrs. Bannerworth, will you
oblige me, as I'm an old fool in family affairs, by buying what's wanted
for me and my guests? There's the money, ma'am. Come along, Jack, we'll
take a look over our new house. What do you think of it?"

"Wants some sheathing, sir, here and there."

"Very like; but, however, it will do well enough for us; we're in port,
you know. Come along."

"Ay, ay, sir."

And off went the admiral and Jack, after leaving a twenty pound note in
Mrs. Bannerworth's lap.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S SEPARATE OPPONENTS.--THE INTERPOSITION OF FLORA.

[Illustration]

The old admiral so completely overcame the family of the Bannerworths by
his generosity and evident single-mindedness of his behaviour, that
although not one, except Flora, approved of his conduct towards Mr.
Marchdale, yet they could not help liking him; and had they been placed
in a position to choose which of the two they would have had remain with
them, the admiral or Marchdale, there can be no question they would have
made choice of the former.

Still, however, it was not pleasant to find a man like Marchdale
virtually driven from the house, because he presumed to differ in
opinion upon a very doubtful matter with another of its inmates. But as
it was the nature of the Bannerworth family always to incline to the
most generous view of subjects, the frank, hearty confidence of the old
admiral in Charles Holland pleased them better than the calm and serious
doubting of Marchdale.

His ruse of hiring the house of them, and paying the rent in advance,
for the purpose of placing ample funds in their hands for any
contingency, was not the less amiable because it was so easily seen
through; and they could not make up their minds to hurt the feelings of
the old man by the rejection of his generous offer.

When he had left, this subject was canvassed among them, and it was
agreed that he should have his own way in the matter for the present,
although they hoped to hear something from Marchdale, which should make
his departure appear less abrupt and uncomfortable to the whole of the
family.

During the course of this conversation, it was made known to Flora with
more distinctness than under any other circumstances it would have been,
that George Holland had been on the eve of fighting a duel with Sir
Francis Varney, previous to his mysterious disappearance.

When she became fully aware of this fact, to her mind it seemed
materially to add to the suspicions previously to then entertained, that
foul means had been used in order to put Charles out of the way.

"Who knows," she said, "that this Varney may not shrink with the
greatest terror from a conflict with any human being, and feeling one
was inevitable with Charles Holland, unless interrupted by some vigorous
act of his own, he or some myrmidons of his may have taken Charles's
life!"

"I do not think, Flora," said Henry, "that he would have ventured upon
so desperate an act; I cannot well believe such a thing possible. But
fear not; he will find, it he have really committed any such atrocity,
that it will not save him."

These words of Henry, though it made no impression at the time upon
Flora, beyond what they carried upon their surface, they really,
however, as concerned Henry himself, implied a settled resolution, which
he immediately set about reducing to practice.

When the conference broke up, night, as it still was, he, without saying
anything to any one, took his hat and cloak, and left the Hall,
proceeding by the nearest practicable route to the residence of Sir
Francis Varney, where he arrived without any interruption of any
character.

Varney was at first denied to him, but before he could leave the house,
a servant came down the great staircase, to say it was a mistake; and
that Sir Francis was at home, and would be happy to see him.

He was ushered into the same apartment where Sir Frances Varney had
before received his visitors; and there sat the now declared vampyre,
looking pale and ghastly by the dim light which burned in the apartment,
and, indeed, more like some spectre of the tomb, than one of the great
family of man.

"Be seated, sir," said Varney; "although my eyes have seldom the
pleasure of beholding you within these walls, be assured you are a
honoured guest."

"Sir Francis Varney," said Henry, "I came not here to bandy compliments
with you; I have none to pay to you, nor do I wish to hear any of them
from your lips."

"An excellent sentiment, young man," said Varney, "and well delivered.
May I presume, then, without infringing too far upon your extreme
courtesy, to inquire, to what circumstances I am indebted for your
visit?"

"To one, Sir Francis, that I believe you are better acquainted with than
you will have the candour to admit."

"Indeed, sir," said Varney, coldly; "you measure my candour, probably,
by a standard of your own; in which case I fear, I may be no gainer; and
yet that may be of itself a circumstance that should afford little food
for surprise, but proceed, sir--since we have so few compliments to
stand between us and our purpose, we shall in all due time arrive at
it."

"Yes, in due time, Sir Francis Varney, and that due time has arrived.
Know you anything of my friend, Mr. Charles Holland?" said Henry, in
marked accents; and he gazed on Sir Francis Varney with earnestness,
that seemed to say not even a look should escape his observation.

Varney, however, returned the gaze as steadily, but coldly, as he
replied in his measured accents,--

"I have heard of the young gentleman."

"And seen him?"

"And seen him too, as you, Mr. Bannerworth, must be well aware. Surely
you have not come all this way, merely to make such an inquiry; but,
sir, you are welcome to the answer."

Henry had something of a struggle to keep down the rising anger, at
these cool taunts of Varney; but he succeeded--and then he said,--

"I suspect Charles Holland, Sir Francis Varney, has met with unfair
treatment, and that he has been unfairly dealt with, for an unworthy
purpose."

"Undoubtedly," said Varney, "if the gentleman you allude to, has been
unfairly dealt with, it was for a foul purpose; for no good or generous
object, my young sir, could be so obtained--you acknowledge so much, I
doubt not?"

"I do, Sir Francis Varney; and hence the purpose of my visit here--for
this reason I apply to you--"

"A singular object, supported by a singular reason. I cannot see the
connection, young sir; pray proceed to enlighten me upon this matter,
and when you have done that, may I presume upon your consideration, to
inquire in what way I can be of any service to you?"

"Sir Francis," said Henry, his anger raising his tones--"this will not
serve you--I have come to exact an account of how you have disposed of
my friend; and I will have it."

"Gently, my good sir; you are aware I know nothing of your friend; his
motions are his own; and as to what I have done with him; my only answer
is, that he would permit me to do nothing with him, had I been so
inclined to have taken the liberty."

"You are suspected, Sir Francis Varney, of having made an attempt upon
the life or liberty of Charles Holland; you, in fact, are suspected of
being his murderer--and, so help me Heaven! if I have not justice, I
will have vengeance!"

"Young sir, your words are of grave import, and ought to be coolly
considered before they are uttered. With regard to justice and
vengeance, Mr. Bannerworth, you may have both; but I tell you, of
Charles Holland, or what has become of him, I know nothing. But
wherefore do you come to so unlikely a quarter to learn something of an
individual of whom I know nothing?"

"Because Charles Holland was to have fought a duel with you: but before
that had time to take place, he has suddenly become missing. I suspect
that you are the author of his disappearance, because you fear an
encounter with a mortal man."

"Mr. Bannerworth, permit me to say, in my own defence, that I do not
fear any man, however foolish he may be; and wisdom is not an attribute
I find, from experience in all men, of your friend. However, you must be
dreaming, sir--a kind of vivid insanity has taken possession of your
mind, which distorts--"

"Sir Francis Varney!" exclaimed Henry, now perfectly uncontrollable.

"Sir," said Varney, as he filled up the pause, "proceed; I am all
attention. You do me honour."

"If," resumed Henry, "such was your object in putting Mr. Holland aside,
by becoming personally or by proxy an assassin, you are mistaken in
supposing you have accomplished your object."

"Go on, sir," said Sir Francis Varney, in a bland and sweet tone; "I am
all attention; pray proceed."

"You have failed; for I now here, on this spot, defy you to mortal
combat. Coward, assassin as you are, I challenge you to fight."

"You don't mean on the carpet here?" said Varney, deliberately.

"No, sir; but beneath the canopy of heaven, in the light of the day. And
then, Sir Francis, we shall see who will shrink from the conflict."

"It is remarkably good, Mr. Bannerworth, and, begging your pardon, for I
do not wish to give any offence, my honoured sir, it would rehearse
before an audience; in short, sir, it is highly dramatic."

"You shrink from the combat, do you? Now, indeed, I know you."

"Young man--young man," said Sir Francis, calmly, and shaking his head
very deliberately, and the shadows passed across his pale face, "you
know me not, if you think Sir Francis Varney shrinks from any man, much
less one like yourself."

"You are a coward, and worse, if you refuse my challenge."

"I do not refuse it; I accept it," said Varney, calmly, and in a
dignified manner; and then, with a sneer, he added,--"You are well
acquainted with the mode in which gentlemen generally manage these
matters, Mr. Bannerworth, and perhaps I am somewhat confined in my
knowledge in the ways of the world, because you are your own principal
and second. In all my experience, I never met with a similar case."

"The circumstances under which it is given are as unexampled, and will
excuse the mode of the challenge," said Henry, with much warmth.

"Singular coincidence--the challenge and mode of it is most singular!
They are well matched in that respect. Singular, did I say? The more I
think of it, Mr. Bannerworth, the more I am inclined to think this
positively odd."

"Early to-morrow, Sir Francis, you shall hear from me."

"In that case, you will not arrange preliminaries now? Well, well; it is
very unusual for the principals themselves to do so; and yet, excuse my
freedom, I presumed, as you had so far deserted the beaten track, that I
had no idea how far you might be disposed to lead the same route."

"I have said all I intended to say, Sir Francis Varney; we shall see
each other again."

"I may not detain you, I presume, to taste aught in the way of
refreshment?"

Henry made no reply, but turned towards the door, without even making an
attempt to return the grave and formal bow that Sir Francis Varney made
as be saw him about to quit the apartment; for Henry saw that his pale
features were lighted up with a sarcastic smile, most disagreeable to
look upon as well as irritating to Henry Bannerworth.

He now quitted Sir Francis Varney's abode, being let out by a servant
who had been rung for for that purpose by his master.

Henry walked homeward, satisfied that he had now done all that he could
under the circumstances.

"I will send Chillingworth to him in the morning, and then I shall see
what all this will end in. He must meet me, and then Charles Holland, if
not discovered, shall be, at least, revenged."

There was another person in Bannerworth Hall who had formed a similar
resolution. That person was a very different sort of person to Henry
Bannerworth, though quite as estimable in his way.

This was no other than the old admiral. It was singular that two such
very different persons should deem the same steps necessary, and both
keep the secret from each other; but so it was, and, after some internal
swearing, he determined upon challenging Varney in person.

"I'd send Jack Pringle, but the swab would settle the matter as shortly
as if a youngster was making an entry in a log, and heard the
boatswain's whistle summoning the hands to a mess, and feared he would
lose his grog.

"D--n my quarters! but Sir Francis Varney, as he styles himself, sha'n't
make any way against old Admiral Bell. He's as tough as a hawser, and
just the sort of blade for a vampyre to come athwart. I'll pitch him
end-long, and make a plank of him afore long. Cus my windpipe! what a
long, lanky swab he is, with teeth fit to unpick a splice; but let me
alone, I'll see if I can't make a hull of his carcass, vampyre or no
vampyre.

"My nevy, Charles Holland, can't be allowed to cut away without nobody's
leave or licence. No, no; I'll not stand that anyhow. 'Never desert a
messmate in the time of need,' is the first maxim of a seaman, and I
ain't the one as 'll do so."

Thus self-communing, the old admiral marched along until he came to Sir
Francis Varney's house, at the gate of which he gave the bell what he
called a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether, that set it
ringing with a fury, the like of which had never certainly been heard by
the household.

A minute or two scarcely elapsed before the domestics hurried to answer
so urgent a summons; and when the gate was opened, the servant who
answered it inquired his business.

"What's that to you, snob? Is your master, Sir Francis Varney, in?
because, if he be, let him know old Admiral Bell wants to speak to him.
D'ye hear?"

"Yes, sir," replied the servant, who had paused a few moments to examine
the individual who gave this odd kind of address.

In another minute word was brought to him that Sir Francis Varney would
be very happy to see Admiral Bell.