Varney the Vampire by Thomas Preskett Prest

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"It will, indeed, uncle; and I require, now, rest, for I am thoroughly
exhausted. The great privations I have undergone, and the amount of
mental excitement which I have experienced, in consequence of the sudden
and unexpected release from a fearful confinement, have greatly weakened
all my energies. A few hours' sleep will make quite a different being of
me."

"Well, my boy, you know best," returned the admiral; "and I'll take
care, if you sleep till to-morrow, that you sha'n't be disturbed. So now
be off to bed at once."

The young man shook his uncle's hand in a cordial manner, and then
repaired to the apartment which had been provided for him.

Charles Holland did, indeed, stand in need of repose; and for the first
time now for many days he laid down with serenity at his heart, and
slept for many hours. And was there not now a great and a happy change
in Flora Bannerworth! As if by magic, in a few short hours, much of the
bloom of her before-fading beauty returned to her. Her step again
recovered its springy lightness; again she smiled upon her mother, and
suffered herself to talk of a happy future; for the dread even of the
vampyre's visitations had faded into comparative insignificance against
the heart's deep dejection which had come over her at the thought that
Charles Holland must surely be murdered, or he would have contrived to
come to her.

And what a glorious recompense she had now for the trusting confidence
with which she had clung to a conviction of his truth! Was it not great,
now, to feel that when he was condemned by others, and when strong and
unimpeachable evidence seemed to be against him, she had clung to him
and declared her faith in his honour, and wept for him instead of
condemning?

Yes, Flora; you were of that order of noble minds that, where once
confidence is given, give it fully and completely, and will not harbour
a suspicion of the faith of the loved one, a happy disposition when
verified, as in this instance, by an answering truthfulness.

But when such a heart trusts not with judgment--when that pure, exalted,
and noble confidence is given to an object unworthy of it--then comes,
indeed, the most fearful of all mental struggles; and if the fond heart,
that has hugged to its inmost core so worthless a treasure, do not break
in the effort to discard it, we may well be surprised at the amount of
fortitude that has endured so much.

Although the admiral had said but little concerning the fearful end
Marchdale had come to, it really did make some impression upon him; and,
much as he held in abhorrence the villany of Marchdale's conduct, he
would gladly in his heart have averted the fate from him that he had
brought upon himself.

On the road to the ruins, he calculated upon taking a different kind of
vengeance.

When they had got some distance from the cottage, Admiral Bell made a
proposal to Henry to be his second while he fought Marchdale, but Henry
would not hear of it for a moment.

"My dear sir," he said, "could I, do you think, stand by and see a
valuable, revered, and a respected life like yours exposed to any hazard
merely upon the chance of punishing a villain? No, no; Marchdale is too
base now to be met in honourable encounter. If he is dealt with in any
way let it be by the laws."

This was reasonable enough, and after some argument the admiral
coincided in it, and then they began to wonder how, without Charles,
they should be able to get an entrance to the dungeons, for it had been
his intention originally, had he not felt so fatigued, to go with them.

As soon, however, as they got tolerably near to the ruins, they saw what
had happened. Neither spoke, but they quickened their pace, and soon
stood close to the mass of stone-work which now had assumed so different
a shape to what it had a few short hours before.

It needed little examination to let them feel certain that whoever might
have been in any of the underground dungeons must have been crushed to
death.

"Heaven have mercy upon his soul!" said Henry.

"Amen!" said the admiral.

They both turned away, and for some time they neither of them spoke, for
their thoughts were full of reflection upon the horrible death which
Marchdale must have endured. At length the admiral said--

"Shall we tell this or not?"

"Tell it at once," said Henry; "let us have no secrets."

"Good. Then I will not make one you may depend. I only wish that while
he was about it, Charley could have popped that rascal Varney as well in
the dungeon, and then there would have been an end and a good riddance
of them both."

CHAPTER LXXVI.

THE SECOND NIGHT-WATCH OF MR. CHILLINGWORTH AT THE HALL.

[Illustration]

The military party in the morning left Bannerworth Hall, and the old
place resumed its wonted quiet. But Dr. Chillingworth found it difficult
to get rid of his old friend, the hangman, who seemed quite disposed to
share his watch with him.

The doctor, without being at all accused of being a prejudiced man,
might well object to the continued companionship of one, who, according
to his own account, was decidedly no better than he should be, if he
were half so good.

Moreover, it materially interfered with the proceedings of our medical
friend, whose object was to watch the vampyre with all imaginable
quietness and secrecy, in the event of his again visiting Bannerworth
Hall.

"Sir," he said, to the hangman, "now that you have so obligingly related
to me your melancholy history, I will not detain you."

"Oh, you are not detaining me."

"Yes, but I shall probably remain here for a considerable time."

"I have nothing to do; and one place is about the same as another to
me."

"Well, then, if I must speak plainly, allow me to say, that as I came
here upon a very important and special errand, I desire most
particularly to be left alone. Do you understand me now?"

"Oh! ah!--I understand; you want me to go?"

"Just so."

"Well, then, Dr. Chillingworth, allow me to tell you, I have come here
on a very special errand likewise."

"You have?"

"I have. I have been putting one circumstance to another, and drawing a
variety of conclusions from a variety of facts, so that I have come to
what I consider an important resolve, namely, to have a good look at
Bannerworth Hall, and if I continue to like it as well as I do now, I
should like to make the Bannerworth family an offer for the purchase of
it."

"The devil you would! Why all the world seems mad upon the project of
buying this old building, which really is getting into such a state of
dilapidation, that it cannot last many years longer."

"It is my fancy."

"No, no; there is something more in this than meets the eye. The same
reason, be it what may, that has induced Varney the vampyre to become so
desirous of possessing the Hall, actuates you."

"Possibly."

"And what is that reason? You may as well be candid with me."

"Yes, I will, and am. I like the picturesque aspect of the place."

"No, you know that that is a disingenuous answer, that you know well. It
is not the aspect of the old Hall that has charms for you. But I feel,
only from your conduct, more than ever convinced, that some plot is
going on, having the accomplishment of some great object as its climax,
a something of which you have guessed."

"How much you are mistaken!"

"No, I am certain I am right; and I shall immediately advise the
Bannerworth family to return, and to take up their abode again here, in
order to put an end to the hopes which you, or Varney, or any one else
may have, of getting possession of the place."

"If you were a man," said the hangman, "who cared a little more for
yourself, and a little less for others, I would make a confidant of
you."

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I mean, candidly, that you are not selfish enough to be entitled
to my confidence."

"That is a strange reason for withholding confidence from any man."

"It is a strange reason; but, in this case, a most abundantly true one.
I cannot tell you what I would tell you, because I cannot make the
agreement with you that I would fain make."

"You talk in riddles."

"To explain which, then, would be to tell my secret."

Dr. Chillingworth was, evidently, much annoyed, and yet he was in an
extremely helpless condition; for as to forcing the hangman to leave the
Hall, if he did not feel disposed to do so, that was completely out of
the question, and could not be done. In the first place, he was a much
more powerful man than the doctor, and in the second, it was quite
contrary to all Mr. Chillingworth's habits, to engage in anything like
personal warfare.

He could only, therefore, look his vexation, and say,--

"If you are determined upon remaining, I cannot help it; but, when some
one, as there assuredly will, comes from the Bannerworths, here, to me,
or I shall be under the necessity of stating candidly that you are
intruding."

"Very good. As the morning air is keen, and as we now are not likely to
be as good company to each other as we were, I shall go inside the
house."

This was a proposition which the doctor did not like, but he was
compelled to submit to it; and he saw, with feelings of uneasiness, the
hangman make his way into the Hall by one of the windows.

Then Dr. Chillingworth sat down to think. Much he wondered what could be
the secret of the great desire which Varney, Marchdale, and even this
man had, all of them to be possessors of the old Hall.

That there was some powerful incentive he felt convinced, and he longed
for some conversation with the Bannerworths, or with Admiral Bell, in
order that he might state what had now taken place. That some one would
soon come to him, in order to bring fresh provisions for the day, he was
certain, and all he could do, in the interim, was, to listen to what the
hangman was about in the Hall.

Not a sound, for a considerable time, disturbed the intense stillness of
the place; but, now, suddenly, Mr. Chillingworth thought he heard a
hammering, as if some one was at work in one of the rooms of the Hall.

"What can be the meaning of that?" he said, and he was about to proceed
at once to the interior of the building, through the same window which
had enabled the hangman to gain admittance, when he heard his own name
pronounced by some one at the back of the garden fence, and upon casting
his eyes in that direction, he, to his great relief, saw the admiral and
Henry Bannerworth.

"Come round to the gate," said the doctor. "I am more glad to see you
than I can tell you just now. Do not make more noise than you can help;
but, come round to the gate at once."

They obeyed the injunction with alacrity, and when the doctor had
admitted them, the admiral said, eagerly,--

"You don't mean to tell us that he is here?"

"No, no, not Varney; but he is not the only one who has taken a great
affection for Bannerworth Hall; you may have another tenant for it, and
I believe at any price you like to name."

"Indeed!"

"Hush! creep along close to the house, and then you will not be seen.
There! do you hear that noise in the hall?"

"Why it sounds," said the admiral, "like the ship's carpenter at work."

"It does, indeed, sound like a carpenter; it's only the new tenant
making, I dare say, some repairs."

"D--n his impudence!"

"Why, it certainly does look like a very cool proceeding, I must admit."

"Who, and what is he?"

"Who he is now, I cannot tell you, but he was once the hangman of
London, at a time when I was practising in the metropolis, and so I
became acquainted with him. He knows Sir Francis Varney, and, if I
mistake not, has found out the cause of that mysterious personage's
great attachment to Bannerworth Hall, and has found the reasons so
cogent, that he has got up an affection for it himself."

"To me," said Henry, "all this is as incomprehensible as anything can
possibly be. What on earth does it all mean?"

"My dear Henry," said the doctor, "will you be ruled by me?"

"I will be ruled by any one whom I know I can trust; for I am like a man
groping his way in the dark."

"Then allow this gentleman who is carpentering away so pleasantly within
the house, to do so to his heart's content, but don't let him leave it.
Show yourselves now in the garden, he has sufficient prudence to know
that three constitute rather fearful odds against one, and so he will be
careful, and remain where he is. If he should come out, we need not let
him go until we thoroughly ascertain what he has been about."

"You shall command the squadron, doctor," said the admiral, "and have it
all your own way, you know, so here goes! Come along, Henry, and let's
show ourselves; we are both armed too!"

They walked out into the centre of the garden, and they were soon
convinced that the hangman saw them, for a face appeared at the window,
and was as quickly withdrawn again.

"There," said the doctor, "now he knows he is a prisoner, and we may as
well place ourselves in some position which commands a good view of the
house, as well as of the garden gate, and so see if we cannot starve him
out, though we may be starved out ourselves."

"Not at all!" said Admiral Bell, producing from his ample pockets
various parcels,--"we came to bring you ample supplies."

"Indeed!"

"Yes; we have been as far as the ruins."

"Oh, to release Marchdale. Charles told me how the villain had fallen
into the trap he had laid for him."

"He has, indeed, fallen into the trap, and it's one he won't easily get
out of again. He's dead."

"Dead!--dead!"

"Yes; in the storm of last night the ruins have fallen, and he is by
this time as flat as a pancake."

"Good God! and yet it is but a just retribution upon him. He would have
assassinated poor Charles Holland in the cruelest and most cold-blooded
manner, and, however we may shudder at the manner of his death, we
cannot regret it."

"Except that he has escaped your friend the hangman," said the admiral.

"Don't call him my friend, if you please," said Dr. Chillingworth, "but,
hark how he is working away, as if he really intended to carry the house
away piece by piece, as opportunity may serve, if you will not let it to
him altogether, just as it stands."

"Confound him! he is evidently working on his own account," said the
admiral, "or he would not be half so industrious."

There was, indeed, a tremendous amount of hammering and noise, of one
sort and another, from the house, and it was quite clear that the
hangman was too heart and soul in his work, whatever may have been the
object of it, to care who was listening to him, or to what conjecture he
gave rise.

He thought probably that he could but be stopped in what he was about,
and, until he was so, that he might as well go on.

And on he went, with a vengeance, vexing the admiral terribly, who
proposed so repeatedly to go into the house and insist upon knowing what
he was about, that his, wishes were upon the point of being conceded to
by Henry, although they were combatted by the doctor, when, from the
window at which he had entered, out stepped the hangman.

"Good morning, gentlemen! good morning," he said, and he moved towards
the garden gate. "I will not trouble you any longer. Good morning!"

"Not so fast," said the admiral, "or we may bring you up with a round
turn, and I never miss my mark when I can see it, and I shall not let it
get out of sight, you may depend."

He drew a pistol from his pocket, as he spoke, and pointed it at the
hangman, who, thereupon paused and said:--

"What! am I not to be permitted to go in peace? Why it was but a short
time since the doctor was quarrelling with me because I did not go, and
now it seems that I am to be shot if I do."

"Yes," said the admiral, "that's it."

"Well! but,--"

"You dare," said he, "stir another inch towards the gate, and you are a
dead man!"

The hangman hesitated a moment, and looked at Admiral Bell; apparently
the result of the scrutiny was, that he would keep his word, for he
suddenly turned and dived in at the window again without saying another
word.

"Well; you have certainly stopped him from leaving," said Henry; "but
what's to be done now?"

"Let him be, let him be," said the doctor; "he must come out again, for
there are no provisions in the place, and he will be starved out."

"Hush! what is that?" said Henry.

There was a very gentle ring at the bell which hung over the garden
gate.

"That's an experiment, now, I'll be bound," said the doctor, "to
ascertain if any one is here; let us hide ourselves, and take no
notice."

The ring in a few moments was repeated, and the three confederates hid
themselves effectually behind some thick laurel bushes and awaited with
expectation what might next ensue.

Not long had they occupied their place of concealment, before they heard
a heavy fall upon the gravelled pathway, immediately within the gate, as
if some one had clambered to the top from the outside, and then jumped
down.

That this was the case the sound of footsteps soon convinced them, and
to their surprise as well as satisfaction, they saw through the
interstices of the laurel bush behind which they were concealed, no less
a personage that Sir Francis Varney himself.

"It is Varney," said Henry.

"Yes, yes," whispered the doctor. "Let him be, do not move for any
consideration, for the first time let him do just what he likes."

"D--n the fellow!" said the admiral; "there are some points about him
that like, after all, and he's quite an angel compared to that rascal
Marchdale."

"He is,--he saved Charles."

"He did, and not if I know it shall any harm come to him, unless he were
terribly to provoke it by becoming himself the assailant."

"How sad he looks!"

"Hush! he comes nearer; it is not safe to talk. Look at him."

CHAPTER LXXVII.

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

[Illustration]

Kind reader, it was indeed Varney who had clambered over the garden
wall, and thus made his way into the garden of Bannerworth Hall; and
what filled those who looked at him with the most surprise was, that he
did not seem in any particular way to make a secret of his presence, but
walked on with an air of boldness which either arose from a feeling of
absolute impunity, from his thinking there was no one there, or from an
audacity which none but he could have compassed.

As for the little party that was there assembled, and who looked upon
him, they seemed thunderstricken by his presence; and Henry, probably,
as well as the admiral, would have burst out into some sudden
exclamation, had they not been restrained by Dr. Chillingworth, who,
suspecting that they might in some way give an alarm, hastened to speak
first, saying in a whisper,--

"For Heaven's sake, be still, fortune, you see, favours us most
strangely. Leave Varney alone. You have no other mode whatever of
discovering what he really wants at Bannerworth Hall."

"I am glad you have spoken," said Henry, as he drew a long breath. "If
you had not, I feel convinced that in another moment I should have
rushed forward and confronted this man who has been the very bane of my
life."

"And so should I," said the admiral; "although I protest against any
harm being done to him, on account of some sort of good feeling that he
has displayed, after all, in releasing Charles from that dungeon in
which Marchdale has perished."

"At the moment," said Henry, "I had forgotten that; but I will own that
his conduct has been tinctured by a strange and wild kind of generosity
at times, which would seem to bespeak, at the bottom of his heart, some
good feelings, the impulses of which were only quenched by
circumstances."

"That is my firm impression of him, I can assure you," said Dr.
Chillingworth.

They watched Varney now from the leafy covert in which they were
situated, and, indeed, had they been less effectually concealed, it did
not seem likely that the much dreaded vampyre would have perceived them;
for not only did he make no effort at concealment himself, but he took
no pains to see if any one was watching him in his progress to the
house.

His footsteps were more rapid than they usually were, and there was
altogether an air and manner about him, as if he were moved to some
purpose which of itself was sufficiently important to submerge in its
consequences all ordinary risks and all ordinary cautions.

He tried several windows of the house along that terrace of which we
have more than once had occasion to speak, before he found one that
opened; but at length he did succeed, and stepped at once into the Hall,
leaving those, who now for some moments in silence had regarded his
movements, to lose themselves in a fearful sea of conjecture as to what
could possibly be his object.

"At all events," said the admiral, "I'm glad we are here. If the vampyre
should have a fight with that other fellow, that we heard doing such a
lot of carpentering work in the house, we ought, I think, to see fair
play."

"I, for one," said the doctor, "would not like to stand by and see the
vampyre murdered; but I am inclined to think he is a good match for any
mortal opponent."

"You may depend he is," said Henry.

"But how long, doctor, do you purpose that we should wait here in such a
state of suspense as to what is going on within the house?"

"I hope not long; but that something will occur to make us have food for
action. Hark! what is that?"

There was a loud crash within the building, as of broken glass. It
sounded as if some window had been completely dashed in; but although
they looked carefully over the front of the building, they could see no
evidences of such a thing having happened, and were compelled,
consequently, to come to the opinion that Varney and the other man must
have met in one of the back rooms, and that the crash of glass had
arisen from some personal conflict in which they had engaged.

"I cannot stand this," said Henry.

"Nay, nay," said the doctor; "be still, and I will tell you something,
than which there can be no more fitting time than this to reveal it."

"Refers it to the vampyre?"

"It does--it does."

"Be brief, then; I am in an agony of impatience."

"It is a circumstance concerning which I can be brief; for, horrible as
it is, I have no wish to dress it in any adventitious colours. Sir
Francis Varney, although under another name, is an old acquaintance of
mine."

"Acquaintance!" said Henry.

"Why, you don't mean to say you are a vampyre?" said the admiral; "or
that he has ever visited you?"

"No; but I knew him. From the first moment that I looked upon him in
this neighbourhood, I thought I knew him; but the circumstance which
induced me to think so was of so terrific a character, that I made some
efforts to chase it from my mind. It has, however, grown upon me day by
day, and, lately, I have had proof sufficient to convince me of his
identity with one whom I first saw under most singular circumstances of
romance."

"Say on,--you are agitated."

"I am, indeed. This revelation has several times, within the last few
days, trembled on my lips, but now you shall have it; because you ought
to know all that it is possible for me to tell you of him who has caused
you so serious an amount of disturbance."

"You awaken, doctor," said Henry, "all my interest."

"And mine, too," remarked the admiral. "What can it be all about? and
where, doctor, did you first see this Varney the vampyre?"

"In his coffin."

Both the admiral and Henry gave starts of surprise as, with one accord,
they exclaimed,--

"Did you say coffin?"

"Yes: I tell you, on my word of honour, that the first time in my life I
saw ever Sir Francis Varney, was in his coffin."

"Then he is a vampyre, and there can be no mistake," said the admiral.

"Go on, I pray you, doctor, go on," said Henry, anxiously.

"I will. The reason why he became the inhabitant of a coffin was simply
this:--he had been hanged,--executed at the Old Bailey, in London,
before ever I set eyes upon that strange countenance of his. You know
that I was practising surgery at the London schools some years ago, and
that, consequently, as I commenced the profession rather late in life, I
was extremely anxious to do the most I could in a very short space of
time."

"Yes--yes."

"Arrived, then, with plenty of resources, which I did not, as the young
men who affected to be studying in the same classes as myself, spend in
the pursuit of what they considered life in London, I was
indefatigable in my professional labours, and there was nothing
connected with them which I did not try to accomplish.

"At that period, the difficulty of getting a subject for anatomization
was very great, and all sorts of schemes had to be put into requisition
to accomplish so desirable, and, indeed, absolutely necessary a purpose.

"I became acquainted with the man who, I have told you, is in the Hall,
at present, and who then filled the unenviable post of public
executioner. It so happened, too, that I had read a learned treatise, by
a Frenchman, who had made a vast number of experiments with galvanic and
other apparatus, upon persons who had come to death in different ways,
and, in one case, he asserted that he had actually recovered a man who
had been hanged, and he had lived five weeks afterwards.